Mind's Eye: After the Breakup
by byte size
Summary: This is my take on how H&C feel after they break up AND what happens afterwards. Glimpses into what their relationship was like before they broke up. Certain things that were incoherent arcs in S7 have been taken out of consideration. Thx for the reviews!
1. Chapter 1

_Hello, fellow fans who love or used to love House, M.D.! This is my take on how House and Cuddy feel after their breakup. TBH, I was frustrated with the lack of the show's insight as to how the two characters actually feel after their breakup. I was also frustrated by how they hardly showed any happy moments with House and Cuddy as a couple when they were together. They had to have good times, too, right? Otherwise, why would they have been together for those months? This is my humble attempt at portraying what I think they could feel after their breakup and what their life as a couple was like. In my story, "Bombshells" does not occur right after "Recession Proof." Also, the contrived ridiculousness that is Dominika has not happened, either._

**In the Morning**

[Cuddy]

We all have our vices.

Mine is the inability to let go.

My guilt is a morning ritual that starts with the knot in my stomach, the passive stare into the mirror after my shower. I towel dry my hair and try to block out the memory of him taking me by surprise one day, snatching a towel off the counter and playfully mussing up my wet hair. He failed miserably at drying my hair, but he caught my face between his hands and looked at me with so much love and kissed me so softly that I felt lightheaded. I looked into his eyes after the kiss, so happy but wondering what brought on this sudden display of tenderness. I quickly remembered the night before, when he was drunk and fell asleep in my lap. I was still troubled by what he had said, but I pushed those thoughts out of my mind as I looked into his eyes. I smiled at him, knowing that my eyes were shining, and gave him a small kiss before I walked out the bathroom to prepare for the day. I still remember his half-smile in the mirror as he trailed my exit with his eyes.

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat whenever I see his gaze in my mind. I step into my bedroom and dress for _this_ day, on autopilot.

I shake my head and sigh, look up at the ceiling. I think of Rachel and my jaw sets. I will not do this. Rachel needs me, and I love her more than anything. I will be strong for her. I put on my heels and walk out the door, thankful that Rachel is sleeping later than usual and that Marina got here on time. There are good days and there are bad days. On this bad day, I know that my resolve to be strong for Rachel could crumble at any moment, and I will not subject her to the despair in my eyes. I won't.

[House]

My eyes open, and I immediately know that she is not here. I have known that she is not here for a while now, but I still sense her absence. Why? A dog would have been trained to adjust to her absence.

I don't want to think about her anymore. I can't think about how her body fit into mine when I held her throughout the night, how I would just look at her on nights when I couldn't sleep and secretly press my lips in her hair, not wanting to wake her but needing to feel her against me. I can't…

Well, I can get out of this bed and drag my ass to work. I have a case that hasn't been solved yet and I need to figure out a way to have the pills delivered to me at the hospital. Driving for two hours to get a prescription or meeting that dirty dealer under the bridge is getting boring. I breathe through my nose and get up. I limp to the bathroom, and my leg feels as stiff as it did yesterday. I bend to turn on the hot water, waiting a while outside the tub to let the steam build up. I start taking my boxers off, and as I turn to throw them on the floor, I see the prescription bottle on the edge of the sink. I have about ten pills left. I stare at the bottle for a while, then I dry swallow two of the tablets.

[Cuddy]

Damn. The budget report is due in two weeks, and his team hasn't submitted a preliminary plan yet. What the hell. This is the last thing I need. Why does he make everything so difficult? I shut my eyes and try not to get too angry. I know I'll need a flow of concentration to get through the afternoon meetings. This is a bad day, and I don't want to see him. I'll put off yelling at him for tomorrow.

[House]

I haven't gone to clinic duty for weeks now. I spend the extra time in the morgue or with coma guy #12. They're quiet and they don't sneak me suspicious, doubtful glances like the idiots who work for me. I've solved every case that's come to me for the past three weeks. That's five patients. Morons. Can't they see that I'm fine? Yeah. I'm back on track.

Speaking of being back on track…I wonder if Carly is available tonight. I'm going through the list alphabetically. I flip open my cell phone and locate her number. I dial. She picks up. We make arrangements, and I whistle on my way out of the morgue, thinking of tonight.


	2. Chapter 2

-In the Evening-

**[Cuddy]**

The meetings took forever, but I'm glad I got it over with. The phone rings on my desk. I pick it up.

"Hello?"

"Greg?"

"No." I can feel my annoyance brimming to the surface. This is a bad day, and having one of his hookers call me up just to annoy me is not funny at all.

I hang up because I know the scripted lines she's supposed to say to me.

I place my head in my hands, running my fingers through my hair twice. I hate to mess up my hair, but I'm going home soon so it doesn't matter. Not really.

I've done enough work for today. I miss Rachel. I'm going home. I pick up my coat and head out the door, my car keys already in my hand because all I'm thinking about is getting through my front door and seeing my little girl's face light up with laughter.

**[House]**

Oh. Crap. Here she comes. Why does she choose today of all days to leave early? Early for her, I mean. I try to make my way inconspicuously to my bike, but I know that she already saw me. Really, how can you miss seeing a six foot two cripple in a leather jacket? With a cane, no less. Goddammit.

Wait. What… She's just walking to her car, pretending she didn't see me. I see a sliver of her lavender scarf as she slides into the driver's seat of her Lexus. I told her to ditch that damn car… What do I care? She can crash, for all I care. It'll prove that I was right. About everything.

She pulls out of her parking space, and I see her drive off. I climb unto my bike and ride home.

-Night-

**[House]**

I pump into her, feeling myself go deeper with each thrust. I have her pinned beneath me. I place one elbow on the bed, and, using my other arm, I bring her legs to rest around my hips. I settle into her more, thrusting faster and deeper. She moans as I feel the sweat forming on my forehead. Her eyes are closed. "Look at me," I tell her. She opens her eyes, and they're not her shade of blue. My eyes wander to her hair, and they're not the black curls I'm seeing flash through my mind. Goddammit. I grunt and I pick up the pace, pounding into her so that the bed is rocking. She moans louder and I feel myself spasm into her, feeling the release, breathing hard.

I roll off her, and I make a mental note to check the medical records on Daisy, who's next on my list. I'm glad I found Carly's medical records quickly today because I needed this when I got home. I reach over and take another Vicoden. One pill left.

**[Cuddy]**

I kiss Rachel goodnight as she looks at me with her normally round blue eyes half-closed. I smile and breathe in her baby shampoo. As I walk out the door, I hear her stir all of a sudden and ask, "Mama?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"Where's House?" she asks sleepily.

I clutch the doorframe with my hand and close my eyes for a millisecond.

"He's very busy working on a case, honey."

"Oh... Will he come over soon to play? I wanna play feed the monkey."

"Uh…no, Rach. He's…really really busy so he can't come over for a while. But, he said to tell you hello. And he also said to not sneak out of the bed to get juice! Okay?"

"Okay, mama."

"Goodnight, honey."

"Goodnight, mama."

"Mama?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Tell House…Rachel sorry she sat on his leg on accident. I won't do it anymore. Tell him, okay?"

"I will, honey."

"Okay. Good night, mama."

"Good night, sweetie."

I make my way to my bedroom but pause and decide to go to the kitchen instead. I pull out the half-full bottle of wine and pour myself half a glass. Everything is such a mess. I can't bring myself to tell Rachel that he'll never be back. She'll cry and ask why. I don't know how to answer her right now. Not yet.

I pour myself another half glass of wine and lean back against one of the dining room chairs. I sit. I'm tired. Bone tired. I know I'll fall asleep on this table if I don't move into the bedroom soon, but I don't care. I don't care.

_His lips are moving against mine with urgency, and he's covering every inch of my lips. I press closer into him and he tilts his head, covering my neck with kisses. I feel goosebumps erupt on my shoulders, and I can feel the tips of my breasts harden against his chest. He pulls my hips into his pelvis and kisses me again, securing me against him as his mouth opens mine and this thumb moves across my cheekbone. I kiss him back, feeling breathless but also feeling a surge of energy that overtakes me. I break the kiss, grab him by the shirt and push him towards the table. When he's leaning against it, I lean into him, kissing his throat while I unbutton his shirt and caress his chest. He sighs slightly and kisses me again when I slip his shirt off his shoulders. Still kissing me, he stands up slowly and changes our position so that he's pressing me against the table. His hands are everywhere, his mouth is swallowing mine, and I want him so much that my head spins. He lifts me unto the table and settles between my legs. He breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes as he unbuckles his belt and slides his pants and boxers to the floor. He steps out of his socks and shoes quickly. He's naked now, and I know that he wants to feel my skin against his. I pull my shirt over my head and place it behind me. He leans in to kiss my neck and quickly unclasps my bra. He throws the bra to the floor and lightly cups my breasts. He kisses me as he gently massages my breasts, and I moan softly into his mouth. His hands are soon peeling off my pants and panties and all of a sudden, I can feel him pressing against me, waiting to feel that I'm ready. I kiss him ardently and rub myself against him. He hooks his arms under my legs and enters me. I let out a little gasp, and he kisses me tenderly, helping me to relax. I melt into his mouth, and I close my eyes at the sensation of him moving slowly within me. He finds his pace, and I feel my muscles squeezing him tightly as he moves further and further into me. I shiver when he hits a certain spot, and I know that he'll take that as a sign to maintain that angle. He pushes harder and faster now, and I feel the ache within me building, increasing in pressure, and it's so painfully pleasurable I can't stand it. He pounds into me now, our needs mutually burning, us needing to feel consumed in each other. My muscles clamp down on him tightly and I involuntarily moan, even though Rachel is just down the hallway. I shake and writhe against him as he continues to thrust deep inside me, him finally reaching his release as he grips my hips with his hands. We both moan quietly as we slowly move our hips together, taking ourselves down from the high.. When we finally still, I lean my head against his chest, and he envelopes my head with his right hand. He kisses me on the top of my head, and we both close our eyes, catching our breaths. After a moment, he looks down at me, cupping my face in his hands, and I see his eyes illuminated by the moonlight that has drifted into the room. His eyes are…_

I shudder awake, finding my hand listlessly gripping the wine glass. I shake my head, trying to clear the memory of us in this dining room, coming back to me in my semi-conscious state.

I will not cry tonight.

I finish the rest of my wine and head into my bedroom.

**[House]**

After she leaves, I fall back into bed. I close my eyes. I count the minutes. I can't sleep. God. I need a drink. I get out of bed and go into the kitchen. I rifle through the cabinets to look for something to eat with my scotch. Crackers, candy, popcorn, peanut butter, biscotti. Wait…. Biscotti? For a moment, I wonder where in the hell that came from and then I remember. Jesus. I thought I threw everything out. I grab the bag of biscotti, wrapped in a red bow, and throw it in the trash. I grab the bottle of scotch and start heading to the living room, but I change my mind. I turn back, pick the bag out of the trash, and walk to the living room with it in one hand the scotch in the other. I take a sip of the scotch. I don't use glasses at home much anymore. I tear open the bow of the bag and reach in for a biscotti. I eat one. It's a little bit stale, but, it won't kill me. I eat another one, chewing it in my mouth as I flip the TV on. I drink some more scotch. And some more. And I know I'm dozing off but it's comfortable here on the couch anyway so who gives a damn if I don't sleep in that bed.

"_You didn't have to be such an ass!" She tells me in her whisper-shout voice._

"_Well, he started it," I say half sighing and half rolling my eyes. "He totally disrespected me just because I have a cane! "_

"_Not getting the table you wanted does not mean you were disrespected! It means that the restaurant was full and you forgot to make reservations!" _

_I want to tell her that being disrespected and forgetting to make reservations have nothing to do with each other because the waiter was an ass to me solely because I was a cripple, but I know that pushing any further will land me on the couch tonight._

_I hold my tongue and say, "Fine. Let's just get out of here."_

_The wind is getting colder, and she only has a light jacket on over her red dress. I want to put my arm around her to warm her up, but I know she's too angry right now for any contact. We walk in silence to the car. Once we're in, I start the engine, adjust the mirror, and wait for a while._

"_Why aren't we moving?" she asks._

"_Well, it's a long drive home, and I thought we should eat something before we get started."  
"Are you kidding me? We just got kicked out of the only place that serves decent food around here."_

"_Well, just because we left the building doesn't mean that I didn't bring some of the molding back with me," I say as I bring out two bags of biscotti I had hidden under my jacket. _

_She gasps. _

"_House! Where'd you get that? Weren't those on display for sale in the open bakery at the restaurant?" _

_I suppress a smile. I actually want to laugh, but I also want to draw this out more. _

"_You…stole it, didn't you," she says as she looks at me with an arched eyebrow._

"_Well, after that watch- out- where- you-rest- your- cane- grandpa comment, I figured the restaurant could afford to have some inventory go missing." _

_I know that she thinks it's funny, too, though I also know that she's trying to look indignant and shocked. She tries to suppress a laugh, but all of a sudden her stomach growls, and she bursts into laughter, grabbing at one of the bags. I hold both bags in one hand, away from her, so she can't get to either of them. _

"_Hey!" she exclaims as she laughs, trying to reach for them. "I'm hungry!"_

_I look at her face and how freely she's laughing, and I can't help but kiss her on the cheek- quickly, twice._

"_Hey!" She stops laughing, but continues to smile, and she looks into my eyes. "What was that for?" she asks._

"_Nothing," I tell her. She arches her eyebrow again, waiting for more, but I really don't know why. _

"_Well, mister, I'm too hungry right now for 'nothing', so move and gimme!"_

_I let her have one of the bags, and I throw the other in the backseat, knowing that she'll want to have some of them left for when she drinks her tea. Or for Rachel._

_We eat the biscotti in the one bag together, making fun of each other, how she's chewing so loudly and I'm getting crumbs all over myself. When the last one is gone, I realize that the engine has been on for a while now and we'd better get going. _

"_House?" _

"_Yeah?"_

"…"

"_What?"_

"_I'm not mad you didn't make reservations."_

_I smirk and look over at her. She's so stubborn. Why can't she just say…_

"_Well, let's get going!" she says. I nod, and start to turn the wheel when says,_

"_House?"_

"_What?" I say, getting slightly annoyed._

_She suddenly leans into my side, resting her head on my shoulder, draping my arm around her. She reaches up and kisses my cheek. _

"_Nothing."_

_Our eyes meet for a minute, and we both half smirk at each other._

_I keep my arm around her and carefully ease out of the parking lot. _

I wake up. There's a slight draft in the living room, and I didn't drink enough to keep my body temperature up for the chill. I take a last swig out of the bottle and head towards the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, 9 p.m. Cuddy's office. Her desk is overflowing with papers, and she taps her pen against her temple. She's tired.

**[Cuddy]**

Does he feel like a part of him is missing? That's so cliché and I roll my eyes at the expression, but I feel like a cliché. I feel like the woman who lost _that person_ and can't move on with her life. Sure, I'm on top of things at the hospital, but, that's an imperative. Actually, now that I think about it, I'm not on top of everything at the hospital. He hasn't done half of the mandatory things he has to do. Well, I can only deal with him on good days, and I think getting him to do half of what's needed is better than anything anyone else could have pulled off. Even when we were together, I could only get him to do two-thirds of what he was supposed to do.

I tap the pen against my temple faster, trying to psyche myself up to push through the rest of the paperwork. I read for a while, then decide to close my eyes for just five minutes. Just need to rest my eyes.

I don't want to, but I can't help seeing myself rub the stubble across his cheek, the way he would subconsciously lean into my palm, as if by reflex. I know that he hates showing weakness, but, sometimes, with me, he let that guard down and I knew when he closed his eyes that he felt the love radiating from my hand into his skin.

I see his eyes, even now. In the beginning, they looked at me with uncertainty. Love laced with trepidation. After a while, I saw his eyes become warmer, his gaze becoming more relaxed. His cerulean eyes would turn a deeper blue when he gave me a rare, wide open smile or right before he closed them to kiss me.

Now, I don't see that color in his eyes. They seem light, electric, and angry. When he passes me in the hallway, his eyes don't follow me. He goes about his way, to Wilson, to the cafeteria, to a hooker. Anywhere but to me.

Damn. Why am I doing this to myself? What's done is done. This is pathetic. I open my eyes and continue reading.

**[House]**

I throw the ball against the wall. The case was solved, but I need to think some more. My guess had been half luck. Getting the answer through an LP didn't fit into any of the articles he'd read about that form of infectious disease. Why was the answer right? I throw the ball against the wall rhythmically, running over all the articles about the disease in my head. No. There was no mention of an LP anywhere. Well, I'll have Foreman write up an article about a new way to identify the disease. I'm sure he'll love another byline on his resume.

It's time to go. I pack some files into my bag, put on my coat, grab my cane, and head to the parking lot.

**[Cuddy]**

I have to stifle a groan. He's here. God. I'm going to have to hurry.

I walk faster, my heels hitting the ground noisily, to my car.

Why did he stay so late today? His patient was diagnosed hours ago.

I walk swiftly across the parking lot.

**[House]**

I see her. Two days in a row? Damn. I can hear the clicking of her heels speed up. Typically passive aggressive. Pretending not to see me. Wait.

The clicking sounds have stopped, and I hear a soft, "oh" being echoed in the parking lot.

**[Cuddy]**

Damn Damn Damn! I can't believe this. I look down at my ankle. It doesn't look too bad, though my shoe is ruined. My knee is bleeding a little. Who the hell put this cone here? I didn't even see it and now I've tripped over it like an idiot, sitting on my butt in a garage at 10 at night. I sigh. I test my ankle, trying to flex it.

**[House]**

I get on my bike, turn the ignition on, and head towards the exit. After going about 20 feet, I see her sitting on the floor, next to her car, flexing her ankle. I can see the blood, on her knee and the ruined shoe. A cone is lying nearby. I tighten my hands over the handles to speed up. I'm ready to take off, but all of a sudden I remember that she used to rub her right ankle occasionally,, especially on rainy days.

"_Joint pain, grandma?" I had asked_

"_Ha ha, Mr. Caneholder. I hurt my ankle playing tennis a few years back, and it didn't heal properly. It hurts sometimes."_

"_Well, I'm pretty sure those shoes you wear don't help."_

_She shot me a glare. _

"_I'm fine. They're fine. It only hurts sometimes."_

"_Well it's a good thing you're super bendy all over so you can compensate for the ankle stiffness" I teased._

_She smirked at me, biting down on her lower lip. I reached up to run my finger through her hair. She'd worn it straight that day. _

"_Hey! Don't mess up my hair."_

"_Hey yourself" I said as I continued running my hands through her hair, not listening to her complain as I pulled her closer and placed my lips over hers._

I sigh. I know I'll hate myself later, but I turn around and slowly make my way to where she's sitting. She hears me approach and looks at me. I get off the bike and walk over to her.

**[Cuddy]**

I see him walk towards me and I look away for a second. I take a breath then look him straight in the eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Clearly you're not."

"I'll be fine, so you can just go on your way" I say, trying to half-smile.

He looks at me for a moment, then says,

"Your supreme bitchiness is going to get worse than it has been these days with a bum ankle, so just keep quiet for a second. Ok?"

"Hey,…"

"I said, be quiet."

He shifts his weight awkwardly as he settles on the knee of his good leg, and looks at my ankle. He doesn't touch me.

"You'll need to bandage the ankle."

"I know, Sherlock. I am a doctor, too, you know."

"Yeah. A doctor who can't successfully walk to her own car, to the parking place she designated to herself as hospital administrator."

"Shut up. I'm gonna go back in and get it bandaged" I say as I try to push myself off the floor. I put all my weight on my good ankle. Crap. With only one shoe on, this is impossible.

"Hey, genius," he says, as he grabs my arm and pulls me up as he gets up, too. I grip his shoulder for balance. It's strange because we're using each other's bodies for balance and we sway a bit before we finally are on our feet.

Okay. My ankle is hurting. Bad.

"Take the shoe off, genius," he says.

I want to scowl at him, but I don't' want to talk to him anymore than I have to, so I take the remaining shoe off.

He places one hand on my arm, and the other on my shoulder. We start walking towards the elevators.

"You're really short." He says.

"Shut up." I say as I feel a light sweat breaking on my forehead from the effort of walking, even with his support.

He smells like leather and smoke. His hands feel warm where they press on my arm and shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**[House]**

The smell of her shampoo wafts up towards me as we walk to the elevator doors. I don't recognize the scent. I think it's new. As we wait the elevator to arrive, I look around the parking lot. She looks around, too.

I'm still supporting her balance and I'm using her shoulder to balance my leg, but I keep my touch as light as I can. I don't want to put more pressure on her body than I have to. Her shoulder feels sharper than I remember under my hand. She's gotten thinner.

I used to tease her about not eating when she got upset, only half joking. She'd get cranky when she didn't eat and get on my case about something stupidly insignificant. I usually had to shut her up with sex, or, if we were at the hospital, I'd work in the clinic or, well, pretend to work in the clinic.

The elevator dings open and we walk inside. I push the button for the clinic.

As soon as the door closes, she gingerly and awkwardly hobbles the short distance away from me and leans against the steel wall, to my right. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the sheen of sweat near her temples, and I see that she's paler than usual. I'm pretty sure her cheekbones have gotten sharper, and the faint darkness under her eyes have become more pronounced.

I look at the floor.

We don't say anything.

The door dings open.

**[Cuddy]**

My ankle is throbbing, and I'm trying to take deep breaths to keep focused. I feel the perspiration threaten to seep into the collar of my blouse. I'm so tired, and I just want to get this done. I want to go home.

The elevator opens, and though I dread touching him again, I do my best to wobble back over to him. He's already stepping towards me, and we resume the position we were in when we were in the parking lot. We walk out the doors, heading towards the clinic.

I smell the smoke on him more strongly now that we're inside, and I wonder when he started to smoke regularly. I try not to notice that his hair has gotten longer, that the fine lines around his eyes have gotten deeper.

Inside the clinic, the night shift starts to notice me and throw questioning glances, but they don't say anything. As we near the closest exam room, I say, "Brenda, can you get me some bandages?"

Of course, there are bandages inside the exam room, but I can't take this silence that has settled over the clinic, and the silence that has settled over him and me.

Brenda nods, and heads into another exam room.

We enter the nearby room, and he walks with me towards the examination table. I pull my body away from him and rest my hands on the table, supporting my own weight..

He limps over to a chair, standing behind it, holding onto its back.

"Thank you," I say, trying to half-smile. I'm still trying to breathe regularly.

He nods, the gesture almost undetectable. "You're welcome".

Our eyes meet, and though my ankle is throbbing, I see his blue eyes, and I feel a pressure building in my chest. I'm tired, I'm hurt, and I can't deal with looking at him right now. I look away.

"Dr. Cuddy?" Brenda says as she open the door. "Here are your bandages", she says, as she places the rolled up cloth on the examination table.

"Thanks, Brenda" I say. She leaves.

"I should go," he says, as Brenda walks out the door.

"Yeah. Thanks again,"

He walks out.

**[House]**

Crap. I left my cane in the parking lot. I walk towards the elevators, hating that I have to hobble more than usual.

The door immediately opens, and I walk in.

I press the garage floor.

I shut my eyes briefly and exhale. I wonder if Daisy is waiting for me on steps in front of my apartment.

I reach the parking lot, hobble over to my bike, put on my helmet, and grip the handles.

She'll be fine. She always is. I shake my head, clearing the image of her standing in the exam room alone.

I turn on the ignition.


	5. Chapter 5

**[House]**

Christ. She _is_ sitting on the stairs. Her long legs are crossed, her brown hair shiny. Her lip gloss shines, even in the darkness. She sees me get off the bike and stands up to greet me.

I walk over to her.

"Listen, I'll make it worth your while next time, okay?" I tell her.

"What?" She asks, looking up at me in slight disbelief.

"Yeah. I got a patient that I have to get back to. I just left a file here, so I have to head back."

"Oh…" She says. She lifts her hand and traces a finger across my chest. "Well, call me next time, okay? I'm letting you go tonight without a fine cuz you've been a loyal customer, okay?"

"Sure. Alright. See ya." I say quickly.

She walks down the street.

I walk up the steps with my cane, push through the front door, and unlock the door to my apartment.

I walk in, head straight towards the couch, and lie down. My leg is starting to hurt, and I reach for the bottle in my jacket pocket.

Fuck. One left. I thought I put the new bottle in.

I weigh my options.

I know I'll need at least one in the middle of the night. I'll just crash here until my leg wakes me up. I can drag myself to bed then.

**[Cuddy]**

I collapse into bed, the bandage on my ankle secure, the gauze on my knee in place.

I want to sleep, but I think I'm at that state where I'm too exhausted to sleep.

I close my eyes and place the back of my hand over my forehead. I tell myself, "No. Don't think. Don't think", but I know it's futile.

I shouldn't have let him help me today.

_It's still raining outside. _

_Mom is stable at the hospital. Julia is staying with her tonight. House is looking at me, my face cupped in his hands. I look into his eyes and I take in a breath to start talking, to thank him for today, but he suddenly leans in and kisses me on my forehead. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling his stubble graze my skin. He kisses my left eye. In a moment I feel his lips against mine, and he kisses me softly, once. I open my eyes, running my left hand against the stubble on his cheek. I try to tell him through my gaze that I'm grateful for what he did for mom today—for me. _

_I remember his anger in my office, his insistence that I do something. _

_I remember the look he gave me over mom's bed in her hospital room, telling me that it was done, that it was okay, that we were okay. _

_I try to speak again. "House, I…" _

_He kisses me again, but, this time, he's more passionate. His lips are urgent, and he pulls me tight against him. His hands slide down my shoulders, my back, and he wraps his arms around my waist. My pelvis presses against him, and as my lips move against his, I feel the heat created between us warm my whole body. He walks us backwards a few steps, and I feel the back of my knees touch the mattress. _

_He unbuttons my blouse and kisses my neck, my collarbone, the hollow in my throat. He reaches behind and quickly unhooks my bra. He slides my blouse off my shoulders. He pulls my bra straps down my arms. I reach behind to unzip my skirt, letting it fall to the floor. I look into his eyes as I unbutton his shirt, slide it off, and I peel his t-shirt off him. I start to pull at his belt, but he kisses me quickly on the cheek and proceeds to discard his belt, his jeans, his boxers himself. He kicks off his shoes and socks. He bends down to kiss me again, his hands already at my hips, tugging my panties down. I push them down my legs and step out of them. _

_I break our kiss, kick my shoes off, and move to lie down on my bed. He's close behind me, and in a moment, he's hovering over me, his hips nestled between my thighs, his arms on either side of me, and his eyes looking into me. We haven't spoken to each other since we left the hospital. Although I'm looking into his eyes and just the weight of his body on mine feels so right on mine, I can't help but wonder why he wouldn't let me speak just before. _

_My eyes wander across his face. He smiles his barely perceptible smile, and his eyes soften. I feel a flood of warmth in my chest. _

"_Hey," he says and kisses me softly. _

"_Yeah?" I say, mumbling against his lips._

_He lifts his head and looks at me. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't and bends down to kiss me again. _

_I feel his lips move against mine. _

_He whispers a barely audible "I love you" into my mouth._


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you so much for your kind words and reviews! :) I feel this incredible need to get this story out of my system! I think it's because I am so unbelievably heartbroken over basically everything about S7...**

_-One month later-_

**[Cuddy]**

I've always liked Richardson. He's arrogant, but he's loyal to the hospital, and he's a good neurosurgeon. I think I've known him for almost ten years now. I know he respects me, even if he does complain all the time. I like how straightforward he is. He doesn't really hide anything. Plus, his wife is really nice, too. I like seeing them together at the holiday parties.

I walk over to where Richardson is filling out a chart near the nurse's station. I had been meaning to talk to him but kept missing the opportunity somehow. He smiles as he sees me approaching him.

"Dr. Cuddy."

"Dr. Richardson"

"Richardson," I say, "I've been meaning to thank you. Look, I know you've practically been living at the hospital for I don't know how many months now. I know that it's insane. I'll make sure the board approves an extended vacation break for you once everyone gets back." I smile at him warmly and touch his shoulder.

"Careful, Richardson," House's unmistakable voice says behind me. "The Dean of Medicine kind of scoops out your intestines once she sets her claws in you."

Both Richardson and I roll our eyes and ignore him, but he continues,

"Oh, yeah," he says, "She also likes it rough and kinky, if you know what I mean, so make sure to do some push-ups and to bring some costumes with you before you go crawling into her lair. Gotta be prepared, or she'll suck the life right out of you."

I whirl around to face him.

This is beyond low.

He will not disrespect me in front of my staff, not when everyone knows we were together, when everyone knows we slept together, when everyone can half-believe whatever disgusting lie he chooses to tell. They'll half or fully believe whatever personal thing he says about me. Because we slept together. Just because. People are just like that. They love gossip. But this is my hospital, and I'll be damned if I let him talk to me like that in front of my employees.

"Dr. House, my office. Now," I tell him, feeling the anger burning in my chest.

"Uh-oh. Guess someone wants to work out her _aggression_," he says.

I feel my hands balling up into fists.

"My office," I repeat, as I walk to my office door.

I can see him smirk in the reflection of my door. I see him looking at everyone around the room as he takes his time following me inside my office.


	7. Chapter 7

**[House]  
**

As soon as she shuts the door, she turns around and faces me.

"What the HELL! What is your problem?"

"My problem? You're the one whose yelling."

"You…you can't do this! You can't just walk into the clinic and say all of that!"

"Why not? I move my lips, and words come out. Seems simple enough."

She closes her eyes, and I know that she is fighting to keep the anger from overtaking her. I can tell by the way she's squeezing her hands into fists and how her shoulders nearly shake from her effort to control herself.

"I don't want to fight with you!" She says finally as she opens her eyes and glares at me.

"Yeah, I think I got that loud and clear from you a couple of months ago."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Lisa Cuddy doesn't fight. She looks, observes, decides, and walks away, back to her safe fortress of righteousness," I say, and I know that _she _knows I'm referring to the night she walked away from me.

She gasps.

"You miserable bastard!" She says, her voice rising. "I was fighting death, and you—you were busy fighting what? The tiny pill in your hand? Your never-ending self-loathing? I believed in you! I waitied for you, when I thought I was _dying_, and you—all you thought about was your own pain!"

I'm surprised at her outburst, at her tone. I never thought that she would discuss our past here, at the hospital. I guess she's angrier than I thought.

I look at her furiously looking at me, at her body shaking with anger.

I swallow, knowing that what she hurled at me is partly if not all true, but I need to push this further right now. I need to end this. I can't sleep. I need to know that she hates me, that she wants nothing to do with me.

"Yeah, but you knew I was that same miserable bastard when you came to me that night, breaking it off with your boy-toy, didn't you? As I recall, you told me that I didn't need to change, that you loved me, you said…"

"I know what I said! And I was wrong, okay? I tried. House, I really did! I tried, and I struggled…"

"Struggled?" I spit out, my voice rising now. "With your expectations of me, maybe, but did you ever struggle _with_ me? Did you ever think about what we faced together-me, the misanthropic, miserable drug addict, and you, the queen of neurotic, passive aggressive, complex ridden, denial laden bitch of all…"

I hear a strange whoosh sound, and I feel the sting of her slap across my face. My head swings involuntarily to the left.

My mind goes blank, but only for a moment. My cheek stings, but I lift my head to look at her.

I see her breathing hard, and her face is red, blotchy. Her eyes are huge, ablaze with disbelief and fury.

"Get out," she says, her voice shaking. I see her shoulders start to shake, and I know that she's fighting back tears. "Get _out_."

I look at her, standing there, with all her anger and volatile emotions on the surface.

I want to ask her why she wasn't this way in our relationship, why she wasn't this angry with me when she came to me that night. Why she didn't scream or cry or even shove me in the chest. Why she just walked away. Why she just gave up.

Well, it's done now. I start walking towards her office door. As I walk past her, I sense her shoulders start to shake violently, and I hear her start to cry softly.

"I hate you," I hear her say through her tears. "I _hate_ you. Why do you do this to me?"

I had been expecting this, but, I suddenly find myself rooted to the ground. My feet won't move. I feel almost exactly like I did that day that she left. Like someone lodged a brick into my lungs, stunned. Not enough air to breathe, to think.

You wanted this, I tell myself. You need to end this. You can't live like this forever. She said it. She hates you, just like you knew she would, eventually. It's done.

I hear her struggling to breathe as she tries to keep her crying to a minimum. I hear her walk towards me, her heels on the carpet. She pushes me towards the door, her hands at my back, pushing.

I can't think anymore. I turn around, facing her. Up close, her tears are streaming down her cheeks, her eyes are red. I see her swallow thickly, and she glares at me, waiting for me to get out.

I try to push this well of disaster that I feel rising within me, but I remember the last time I saw her so angry with me, tears in her eyes. I remember that indefinable feeling I had as I looked into her eyes. I don't want to remember how I absolutely needed to kiss her, how I needed to pull her against me. I don't want to remember how she inexplicably kissed me back, how I felt a rush of emotions-the memory of nearly twenty years ago, the memory of every time I wanted to kiss her at the hospital-rush through my head as we pressed into each other.

She takes another step towards me, and this time, pushes my chest with her hands. "Get out." She says again. I can't move. "Get out!" she says, her hands on the way to my chest again.

I don't know why I'm doing this. I know this is a mistake. I know this is doomed. But I can't help myself, because, yes, I'm that miserable bastard. I'll make the same mistake over and over again. I stop her hands from hitting my chest, catching them in mine. I pull her towards me, and then I push her towards the door until her back rests against it. She's surprisingly quiet. I think she's too shocked to say anything. I'm too shocked to say anything. I can't believe I'm doing this again.

I pin her arms above her head, against the door, and this time, she gasps and says, "Let go of me, you son of a bitch. Let go."

I'm doomed. I know. But I can't help myself. I am that son of a bitch. I bring my face closer to her face, looking into her eyes. They're still filled with tears.

"No," I say, and I capture her mouth in mine.


	8. Chapter 8

**[Cuddy]**

I'm using House's chest as a pillow, the side of my cheek resting against him. My arms are wrapped around his torso. His right hand gently strokes my hair, and his left hand rests on the top of my shoulder.

I snuggle into him a little closer. I feel exhausted and lightheaded, but I also feel so relaxed for the first time in months that I think I could drift off to sleep right now. House starts to trace patterns on my shoulder with his fingertips.

"House?" I ask with my eyes closed.

"Yeah?"

I prop myself up on one elbow, resting it gently on his chest and look up at him.

"Do you get some perverse pleasure from hearing me say that I hate you?" I ask, half smirking at him.

He looks down at me, nods solemnly and says, "Yes, Dr. Cuddy. I am a messed up human being who looks forward to verbal and physical abuse from raven haired, full-breasted women."

I can't help but let out a laugh and punch him on the arm.

"See?" He says as he shakes his head. "The abuse never stops."

"Shut up!" I say with a laugh as I bring myself up near him so that my face is directly above his.

I look into his eyes and then run my eyes over the contours of his face. I look into his eyes again and take a breath before saying, "House, you know we need to work through a lot of things. I mean, a _lot_. Like a mountain-load of things."

I wait for the joke, the deflection.

But he runs his eyes over my face and then settles his gaze upon mine. He nods. "I know," he says. We look at each other for a second. Then he wraps his arms around me and pulls me down towards him, enveloping me in his chest and arms. "Just don't go away again."

"Mmmm…okay. I'll think about it," I say.

I feel him laughing beneath me and then, in a second, he's rolled us over, and I'm trapped under his body and between his arms. "You're dead, lady," He says as he puts on a mock leer.

I wiggle a little, free my arms, and trap his face between my hands. I look into his clear blue eyes, which have turned serious in the course of the past few seconds. I know that look. I take my left hand and stroke the short hairs at the base of his neck. "I love you," I tell him as I hold his gaze. He slowly gives me a barely perceptible smile and leans down to kiss me.

"Hey," I say as I smack him on the shoulder before he can kiss me.

He lifts his head and looks at me. "The hitting? Again?" He shakes his head.

That's it. I'm getting him off me. I start to push him off, but he won't budge.

Instead, he places soft kisses into my chin, my jaw, my neck. He gently bites my ear.

I hate myself for relaxing a bit while he does this, and before I know it he's looking into my eyes again.

"I love you," He says in a low voice as we look at each other, his eyes turning a deep blue.

I manage to find my voice and say, "Don't you ever forget it," as I half smirk and half smile at him, pulling his towards me, kissing him full on the lips.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thank you for the wonderful reviews, everyone! I so appreciate it. Chapter nine is a glimpse into "the morning after" and "1 week after." It's House and Cuddy, so, well, you know what their "honeymoon period" will be like ;)_

-The morning after-

**[Cuddy]**

"House," I mumble as I nestle into his chest.

"…"

"House, I know you're awake, so stop pretending to snore. "

"…"

"Come on, we have to get up."

He opens one eye, squinting at me.

"You wore me out last night, woman. I think I deserve a day of R&R in bed," He says, as he starts to ghost his fingertips down my spine.

"Staying in bed today will be anything but peaceful if you keep that up," I say, feeling slight goosebumps form on my back as I look up at him. "Besides, if I go to work and you stay here, you'll be all alone in this bed without me. Is that really what you want?" I tease, snuggling into him even closer and pressing my lips onto his collarbone.

He grips my shoulder and pushes me away from him slightly.

"What, tired of me already?" I ask.

"No. But if we're going to get out of this bed, I suggest you head for the shower before I pull you onto my lap." He says.

I smirk at him and, as I get out of the bed, I smack the right cheek of his ass.

"Hmm. Not bad," I say.

"Oh, there will be retribution," he calls to me as I walk towards the bathroom.

"Promise?" I call to him as I shut the bathroom door.

-One week later-

**[House]**

Oh, God. She feels so amazing. We breathe into each other's mouths as I resist the urge to push into her faster. I kiss her neck and breathe in the scent of her shampoo, her lotion, her perfume. She moans as she arches her neck.

She's on the kitchen countertop, her skirt bunched up at her waist, her legs around my hips. Her jacket is unbuttoned, her hair disheveled from where I ran it through my fingers.

We were both dressed for work and taking the last sips of our coffee, giving each other a last kiss before we headed out for work, when she suddenly grabbed the lapels of my jacket, looked at me, and said, "No office sex today, okay? Not even the handicapped men's bathroom. I need to focus today, so no texting me about where to meet you or sending interns with ambiguous messages about where to meet the Big Dipper. Okay?" She said, looking into my eyes.

Damn. I had been hoping for some hot lunch sex in that bathroom today. I pulled her pelvis towards me. I cupped her left breast in my hand, feeling its warmth and how her nipple hardened under the slight grazing of my fingertips. "Well, in that case, I think we're going to need something to tide us over," I said, inwardly thankful that Rachel had gone to Julia's for a few days.

Leading us to where we are now, having left most of our clothes on, knowing we didn't have much time. I hear her moan softly again, and she bites my shoulder through my shirt. Christ. I steadily increase my rhythm until we're both panting in time with my thrusts, me reaching deeper inside of her until I can feel her shudder every time I pump into her. I go faster, gripping her hips and pressing my mouth into her neck. The pressure builds and I continue to thrust into her until I feel her muscles squeezing me, hard, and I feel myself release into her. We hold each other for a moment, catching our breaths. I kiss her and trace the outline of her lips with my tongue as I pull out of her, and we look at each other as we reassemble our clothes.

"Think you can wait until tonight to touch this body again?" I tease as I zip up my pants and buckle my belt.

"Hmm…I guess," She says, her pupils still dilated as she combs her hair back into place with her fingernails.

She hops down from the counter and smoothes her skirt over her hips, her legs. She straightens the sleeves of her jacket.

"Good show, sir," She says as she kisses me on the cheek and walks out of the kitchen, grabbing my left ass cheek as she saunters out. .

I want to retaliate by grabbing her breasts, but I know that'll just earn me a we're-already-late-right-now death glare, so I decide against it.

"Oh, you're so gonna pay for that," I say instead, as I follow her out the kitchen, my jacket on one arm and my cane in the other hand.

"Yeah, yeah" she says, as she heads out of the house.


	10. Chapter 10

**[Cuddy]**

"You're not being reasonable", he says, lifting his chin and throwing both hands in the air. He's pacing inside my office. "We need the brain biopsy to confirm our diagnosis."

"Unless you can justify sticking a needle into a seven year old's head with some _evidence_ of a brain problem, the only think you're going to be sticking into that little girl is another one of those IV bags that's keeping her stable."

He exhales loudly, rubbing a hand up and down his chin. I can see him rapidly trying to think of a counterattack, a different route to get me to say yes.

"House, no matter what you say, the answer is no to the biopsy unless you or one of your team hands me a file with something that says 'cortex' on it", I say quickly.

I can tell he's inwardly fuming. He glares at me for a few seconds and then walks out of the room.

Whatever. If he can't come up with something, the answer is no. He already has two lawsuits pending against him. One more will push him dangerously close to the yearly budget I set aside for his damn craziness. Plus, I don't want to deal with the glares I get at the board meeting and not so sly innuendo from those old fogies about how it must be _really_ good if I can defend yet another one of his crazy stunts.

I straighten out the papers at my desk and resume reading.

**[House]**

I need that goddamn biopsy. There's no _time. _I throw the ball against the wall, the window, the desk. God. This is so frustrating. This is moronic. I rest my chin on top of my cane.

I wonder how she's able to block out the amazing sex we had this morning from her mind. I know that I was riding the high all morning, all morning—that is, until she refused the stupid biopsy.

I think over the possible scenarios in my mind. I'm tempted to run over to the clinic and pay Jose fifty bucks to let me into the printing and filing room, but I know that's not an option. I'm not repeating the Hepatitis nightmare we had with that idiot politician. There has to be another way.

Come on, think. Think.

Brain, brain… Nerves, nerve endings… reflexes… Reflexes. Ding.

I pull out my cell phone and call Foreman.

"Foreman, test her reflex arcs again. Chart her responses every half hour. At the rate her brain is turning into swiss cheese, we'll be able to chart her speed-of-light deterioration in a couple of hours. That'll give us a nice nose-dive line graph. Call me if she develops any speech impairment."

I hang up before he can say anything. I don't want to hear his crap right now. I know I'm right. Reflex arcs are the only alternative way to prove my theory. Hopefully we'll have enough of her brain left over after two hours to salvage her already impaired, pathetic life.

**[Cuddy]**

I feel him sink into the bed next to me. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my back into his chest. His body is so warm. I sigh softly at the sensation of his body seeming to meld into mine. I'll never tell him that because a) it's too embarassingly cheesy to admit, and b) if I do tell him, he'll come up with some manipulative game where he tries to hug me every time he wants something.

I rest my hand over his hand that's covering my stomach. He presses his lips against my neck.

"How's the girl?" I ask.

"Well, Dr. _Cuddy_, it looks like we cut into her head just in time. She'll live. She won't be winning any science fairs, but she won't drool her life away in a nursing home for kiddies."

I laugh softly.

He starts running his other hand gently through my hair. He kisses me on top of my head. I close my eyes, ready to drift off to sleep.

He clears his throat. "Um…Eh hem…"

"What" I say sleepily.

"You know, tomorrow is Saturday."

"Yeah. So?"

"So…tonight, we can go to bed really, really late."

"It's already late."

"Yeah, but we can go to bed lat-_er."_ He says as he presses himself closer against me. I feel him gently kiss the pulse point in my neck and lick it softly.

"Hmm…is that so" I reply, breathing slowly so that my pulse doesn't speed up too quickly. He'd detect that in a second.

"Yes," he says, as he gently grabs my shoulder and turns me around to face him.

We're facing each other now. I can see his blue eyes watching me in the darkness.

He brings his right hand up to my face and cups my cheek with it.

"Hey," he says, leaning in. He kisses me for a few seconds.

My pulse is already starting to speed up. "Yeah?" I reply, giving him a small peck on the lips.

He brushes his lips softly against mine, side to side. His tongue just barely touches my bottom lip.

"I think I deserve an award for being a good employee today."

I can't help but laugh.

"House, we agreed to keep our work life separate."

"But, _mom_, talking about what already happened at work can hardly be crossing the line. It's just an after-the-fact examination."

"House, what you're saying doesn't even make sense…And _don't_ call me mom "

"My impaired brain function might have something to do with the function happening in my pants right now," he grumbles.

I laugh. I wait. I want to tease him. I say nothing.

I hear him huff in frustration after a while. "Fine, if-" he starts to say.

I shut him up with my lips and climb on top of him, pinning his arms to the bed. He looks at me in surprise for a second.

I smile down at him and grind my pelvis gently into his. "So…what kind of reward are you talking about?" I ask as I bend down to kiss him again. I continue grinding. I can hear and feel his breath speeding up. I can feel him hardening against me.

He breaks free of my grip on his arms and places one hand on my chest, one hand on my hip. "I'm…uh…sure we can come to an agreement on something," he says, slightly out of breath. "But, uh… you need to get your rotundus ass naked right now because there's a time limit on reward redemption."

"Oh, is that so," I say as take his hand off me and pull my nightgown over my head."

I see his eyes flashing in the dark, and he grabs me suddenly, pulling me down on the bed. In seconds, he's on top of me, nuzzling and kissing my ear, my neck. "Damn right," he says, and I feel his hands travel down my stomach.

**[House]**

I hear the padding of feet coming into the room. I open one eye, and I have to squint because the sun is streaming unto the bed. Cuddy's still asleep, her breath warm and even next to me.

I lift my head to see Rachel standing in the doorway, her striped pink pajamas slightly wrinkled, her brown her slightly messy. She's holding something.

I squint harder to see. My breath stops for a second.

She's holding an orange prescription bottle.


	11. Chapter 11

**[House]**

I hold my breath as I pull on my boxers as quietly as I can and slip out of the bed. Cuddy is still asleep. I take a breath as quietly as I can and silently walk over to Rachel. She's holding the bottle in her hand, and, as I approach her, she lifts her hand up to me, like she's offering me the bottle. Her round eyes look up at me.

I turn around to check on Cuddy. Her eyes are still closed, her chest rises and falls regularly.

I reach down slowly to take the bottle from her.

Rachel giggles. "House!" She says, getting up on her tiptoes, extending her arm, trying to meet my hand halfway.

I hear rustling behind me and Cuddy's voice: "Rachel?"

Before I can snatch the pills from Rachel's hand, Cuddy is beside me in an instant, covered in the bedsheet. She immediately pries the bottle from Rachel's hand. She doesn't look at me. She bends down gently on her knees so that she's at eye level with Rachel, still clutching the sheet around her. She reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind Rachel's left ear.

"Hi, honey. Did you have a good night's sleep?" She asks.

"Yes, mama." Rachel nods and giggles.

"That's great! Do you want some breakfast?"

"Uh huh!"

"Me, too. Why don't you go sit on the couch for just a few minutes? Mommy'll be right out, okay?"

"Okay!" Rachel says and bounds out towards the living room.

She watches Rachel leave, and she closes the door. I see her take a deep breath, her shoulders rising then falling. She turns around and faces me, her back leaning against the door.


	12. Chapter 12

_I am SO sorry for the tremendously late update! Things are pretty crazy in my life right now. Here's the latest installment. Hope you like it!_

**[Cuddy]**

I try to focus on my breathing as I press my back into the door. My head is still spinning, my heart is still racing from the shock of seeing Rachel with the bottle in her hand.

I see House standing in front of me, but my eyes won't focus on him for some reason. I'm dizzy. I shut my eyes and clutch the bottle in my hand, feeling the cap's ridges dig into my palm. The feeling jars me and I'm not dizzy anymore.

But just as I'm starting to feel steadier, I feel the anger begin—surging from my chest and moving up through my shoulders, my neck, until I can feel the heat rising to my face. I feel an immense pressure start to build in my head. My eyes snap open almost involuntarily, and I glare at him. I know that my eyes are blazing.

"You," I say, the words spilling out of my mouth. "You, will be out of here when I get back in this room.

I recognize the shock on his face, the way his eyes widen, the way his breath turns shallow. I see him swallow thickly. "I…I can explain," he starts, his eyes wide and his gaze running wildly across my face.

"No," I say, the heat still coursing through me as I raise a hand up to silence him. "_You_ are going to _leave_, right now. _Right_ now. Because…because I can't deal with you right now. You…you just need to go," I say, my hands shaking, my gaze dropping to the ground.

I hear him take a loud breath.

I can see his bare feet out of the corner of my eye. I wait for him to move, to get dressed, to get the hell out. Out of here, out of my house, out of my daughter's house. How dare he, the son of a bitch. How dare he…

"No," I hear him say flatly.

Wait, _what_? My head snaps up at his answer. What did he say? I look at him incredulously.

He meets my gaze and says it again. "No," he says, his eyes calmer now, his breath steadier.

"I told you to-"

"Yeah, I heard you. You told me to get out. Is that what you really want?"

I can't answer him for a moment. I find my voice after a moment and say, "Are you _insane_? Do you actually think I'm going to let you stay here after -"

"I screwed up," he says, cutting me off. "Are you going to leave me?" he asks, looking at me, his gaze piercing. "Is this it?" he asks, raising both his hands slightly. "Is this how it ends? Again?"

I can't believe this. _He's_ getting angry at _me_? In _this_ situation?

"Listen, you—"

He takes a step towards me. I'm startled by his movement, I move back slightly.

"No, you listen," he says. "You can yell at me, you can smash one of your overpriced vases over my head, you can haul me to the hospital and rip me a new one. You can make my life a living hell, but _you_ are not going to end it _here_. Not now, not like this," he says.

I look at him in disbelief.

His eyes are steady and boring into mine, angry. But I can see from the slight sag in his mouth, from the way he's taking shallow breaths, that he's close to panicking.

I shut my eyes and the image of how he looked that night flashes through my eyes, how I felt, how I knew he felt. How we felt, or how we were unable to feel-afterwards. I feel a sharp pain in my chest just remembering that night and its aftermath.

No. I can't walk away from him. Rather, I won't walk away from him. The thought of being without him again is too much pain to bear. Wait, but… what about Rachel? Rachel, Rachel… I can still see her clutching that bottle and my heart jumps at the mere recalled image. How do I do this? I need to protect her, will do anything to protect her. But I can't be without House. I can't. I was dead inside without him. Maybe if we had never gotten together… But now, after my arms have memorized the way he feels, after feeling the intensity of how he loves me and needs me, I can't function without him. I can go about my day without him, sure, but I'm like a robot without him in my life. I think back to the unbearable sadness that numbed me in our time apart. I can't be a deadened version of myself to Rachel. No. I will not set that example for her.

I open my eyes again. I can see House watching me, his hands now balled into loose fists. My eyes wander over his face, and I can see the anger fading, and the panic he's been trying to suppress slowly creeps over his eyes.

I take a deep breath. I reach out my left hand to cup his cheek, but I stop. I need him. I love him, but I'm still angry at him. I lower my hand and lightly grasp the little finger of his right hand. His hand opens, and we clench our fingers together. His eyes are still jumpy, running quickly over my face.

"House," I say, looking into his eyes. "We'll talk about this later, okay? I, I just need some time to calm down and talk to Rachel some more. I'll come by later."

I see him let out a sigh and feel him running his thumb over the back of my hand. He nods slightly, once. "Okay," he says softly. He's still looking at me intensely, his eyes turning that shade of blue that I love so much. There's still tension in my whole body, and I know he senses that. His face softens all of a sudden, and he slowly, carefully leans down towards me and presses his lips feather light against mine. He draws away quickly.

"You're still in trouble, mister," I say, arching an eyebrow.

"I know. I know."


	13. Chapter 13

**[Cuddy]**

I look at Rachel eating her oatmeal. I notice that she's using the right end of her spoon and wonder when she started doing that.

"Rachel?"

Rachel turns her round eyes towards me as she chews on her oatmeal.

"When did you start using your spoon like that?"

"House said the shiny part go in the bowl," Rachel says, sticking out her spoon. She points to the metal portion and says, "See? Shiny." She dips her spoon back into her oatmeal and resumes eating.

I half smile and half sigh as I let air out through my nose. What am I going to do with this man?

**[House]**

I hear her knock. I hobble over to the door and open it.

She looks up at me. She's not wearing any makeup, and her gray cardigan is draped loosely over a thin gray tank top.

I consider making a joke about how her look matches the weather right now, but I decide against it.

"Is Rachel with Marina?" I ask instead.

"Yeah," she says as she walks past me into the living room. She walks towards the couch and settles in wearily, pulling the maroon afghan off the arm of the couch and draping her shoulders with it.

I take in a breath and walk over to the couch. I sit at the opposite end from where she's sitting.

"So…." I start.

"How many Vicodin are you taking?" she interrupts suddenly.

I pause.

"In an hour, day, or week?" I ask, looking at her.

She glares at me, and her eyes seem strangely greenish gray against the gray and maroon about her. She continues to just look at me.

I sigh and shift closer to her on the couch. I take her hand in mine. I don't know what to say so I say the only thing that pops into mind at the moment. I look into her eyes and say, "I'll take less."

She shakes her head slightly and looks away from me.

"You can't even answer the question," she says, her voice low and her hand limp in my hand.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"Oh, I believe you, for now, but what happens when when you have a bad pain day, or when you get upset about, oh I don't know, a million other possible things that people get upset about?" She takes her hand away from mine and places her head in her hands. "You shouldn't be taking any Vicodin at all, House. It's only a matter of time before the board points to your trial with Tritter, and Mayfield, and accuses either you or me of knowingly endangering the patients or, worse for them, the reputation of the hospital."

I listen to her stream of words and notice that they sound seamless, almost as if they've been practiced or at least run though a dozen times in her head.

"Are we in hospital administrator mode right now?" I ask. " Because, if you want, I can bend over and you can…"

"House," she says wearily. I hear the strain in her voice. I don't know what to say to her because I don't know what to do right now. I just know that I need her here with me, even like this, even with all of our frustrations with each other. I swallow thickly and reach out to touch her shoulder, gently.

"I'm sorry," I find myself saying. I don't know what to say, but I need her here, with me, right now. Even if she can barely stand me. I need her here.

She lifts her head and looks at me, shaking her head again. "You're such a jerk," she says. "You can't even talk about this with me without deflecting and making wise-ass comments."

"Would you rather I broke down and cried?" I ask.

I reach over her other shoulder and pull her towards me, so that she rests against my chest. I put my arms around her, feeling her frame fitting perfectly against mine. I kiss her hair just because I want to, and I rest my chin on her head gently.

I tell her what I've been thinking about since we got back together. "I'll start seeing Nolan again," I say. I feel her startle in my arms, looking up at me in genuine surprise.

"What?" I say. "I've been thinking about it for a while now."

"I thought you didn't believe in that stuff. Didn't you say it didn't work?"

"Well, it worked, up to a point. It got me in your pants the first time, didn't it?"

I hear Cuddy make an exasperated sound and feel her smack my shoulder with her open palm.

I pull her tighter against me. "It kind of worked the first time. I stayed clean for a year, didn't I? Maybe it'll kind of work again this time." I pull her chin gently up with my finger so she's looking into my eyes. I cock an eyebrow and say, "Who knows, maybe it'll make the sex even better, considering I'm already getting in your pants at the moment."

I can see her weighing what I've said in her mind. I can practically see the wheels turning. I know she wants to ask about the numerous inane implications of why I said I'd go back to Nolan, but I see that she decides to let it pass. I don't know why she does, but I'm glad. I really don't know what to say.

She drops her head back down into my chest and squeezes herself against me. I feel her breasts press into me. "You're not wearing a bra," I say, my mouth muffled in her hair.

"Shut up, House," she says, closing her eyes.

I look down at her for a moment before I press my lips into her scalp and then rest my head back against the couch. I close my eyes, too.


	14. Chapter 14

_Nolan's office_

**[House]**

Not much has changed about Nolan. Or his office. Or the way leading up to his office.

"I hate the Monet reproductions in the waiting room, by the way," I tell him, plopping down into a chair. "Water lilies… Are they supposed to be a symbol of how a delicate flower can blossom out of the murky depths of my twisted, twisted soul?"

Nolan shifts his gaze over at me but says nothing.

I shrug. "I forgot to mention that the last time I was here," I say. I stretch out my legs and cross them at the ankles. I rest my cane on the arm of the chair.

Nolan is sitting across from me in the larger sofa. He has a few more lines on his face, but, other than that, he looks the same. He looks like he weighs the same, at least.

Nolan studies me with that psychologist's gaze for a minute and then says, "Why are you here, House?"

"You're a shrink," I say, pointing at him. " I need shrinking," I say as I point to myself. "Therafy me. Of course, by shrinking I mean my bursting-at-the-seems psyche. Not any bodily parts. But, you knew that already."

"House, the last time I saw you, you accused me of being a faith healer who took advantage of people who wanted to believe and stormed out of here. You also said that I don't have the answers." "So," he continued as he put the tips of his fingers together. "Why are you here?"

Oh for fuck's sake. Why does everyone want an explanation even when I do what they want me to do? Didn't he want me in therapy? Well, now I'm back. What the hell more does he want?

"You know, I have a sneaking suspicion you ask these stupid, boring questions to fill up the minutes for the requisite billing hour," I say.

Nolan shrugs his shoulders and says, "Well, if you won't tell me why you're here, I don't see why I have to sit here and listen to a stupid, boring deflection." He starts reaching over for a magazine.

Oh, Christ. He's going for the stupid boat or yachting magazine again.

I huff air through my nose and say, "I'm seeing Cuddy."

Nolan stops his movement and looks at me. He studies me for a moment then settles into his "shrink pose" on the sofa again.

"How long have you been seeing her?"

"This time? A couple of months."

"There was a prior time?"

"We were together for about a year. We split up, then got back together."

Nolan nods. "I see."

There's silence.

I don't see the point of this game. One more silence and I'm out of here. This is goddamn boring. "Well?" I ask. "Aren't you going to ask me about how we got together in the first place and why we're back together now?""

"If that's what you want to talk about," Nolan says.

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Dr. _Nolan_. That's why I'm here. You dragged it out of me. I'm shagging the Dean of Medicine and need advice on how to keep her satisfied."

"Are you back on Vicodin?" Nolan asks suddenly.

I look at him surprise. He must be more perceptive than I thought. But, really, why else would I be here if I wasn't back on Vicodin? He's not perceptive. He's just one step above a dumbass monkey.

I look down at my jacket pocket. The pocket shape is curved slightly, like its snuggling the prescription bottle. I look down at the new running shoes that arrived in the mail yesterday.

"Yes," I say.

_Cuddy's house_

**[Cuddy]**

Why isn't he here yet?

I'm pacing in the living room, wrapped in my robe. He should have been here by now. He said he's be here by seven. I glance at the clock. It's almost nine.

_Knock, knock._

It's him. I rush over to the door and open it in a rush. House is standing there, looking like I saw him this morning, with the jacket, the shirt, and the t-shirt underneath. He looks slightly more tired. "Hiya, Dr. Cuddy," he says as he steps inside.

"You're late," I tell him as I close the door behind us. "I was worried about-"

"Can you give a man a beer before you start in on the nagging, _mom_?" He says, as he heads towards the dining room. I follow him and watch him sit down wearily on one of the dining room chairs. He really does look tired. I shake my head slightly and bite my lip. I head into the kitchen and come back with a beer for him. Beer that I never drink but which he nags me to buy for him every time he knows I'm going grocery shopping on the weekend.

"Here," I say, sticking the beer out for him.

He reaches out his hand and takes the beer from me. "Wow," he says. "I guess the tired, demanding House brings out the submissive, domestic Cuddy. Me likey," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. He pops open the beer and takes a sip.

I snort and poke him in the chest as I sit in the chair next to him. I rest one of my elbows on the table and look at him.

"So, how'd it go?" I ask. I'm curious to know how the session went with Nolan, but I'm more curious to know if he actually went to the session itself.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Talked about water lilies, fishing, yachting, that kind of thing."

"Did you talk about a certain narcotic, too?"

"Why, yes, Dr. Cuddy. That did come up. As did a certain hospital administrator who I seem to keep sleeping with. The administrator happens to be a woman- at least I think so- so, you know, we compared techniques on how to keep paper-pushers satisfied. His secret, secret girlfriend is a secretary, so he can relate. Oops, that was supposed to be a secret," he says, covering his mouth.

I smile lightly at him and look at his blue eyes lit by the indirect light from the living room.

He takes his hand from his mouth and takes another sip of his beer. His mouth and some of his stubble are slightly wet from the liquid, and I reach over with my left hand to rub the area dry. He kisses my fingertips lightly as they touch his mouth. I laugh quietly at the unexpected gesture and bring my hand to the side of his temple. I stroke the graying strands of his hair gently. He looks at me, still tired, but his eyes are starting to twinkle in a glint I know too well.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask him.

He smiles the smile I see when he thinks he's going to tell me something really funny or clever.

"So, do you want to see the techniques I discussed with my doctor today?"

I can't help but laugh. I know what he's trying to do. I know he's going to try to convince me that we should have sex after every session that he has with Nolan "Are you ever going to stop trying to use sex as a bartering tool?" I ask.

He shrugs. "No. Why mess with a good system when it works?"

I ruffle his hair. "It only works when I'm in a good mood, you idiot."

"Touche, madame Cuddy. But as I recall, and according to my meticulous calculations, the cock-blocking-for-weeks-on-end-because-you're-pissed-at-me phenomenon hasn't reared its ugly head for quite some time now, so I think we're at a place where we can maturely use sex as a bartering tool. It only means more sex for both of us, just a matter of who does what, so it's a win-win situation. "

I groan. "You're such a sweet talker that I think I just melted into a puddle on the floor," I say sarcastically.

House looks at me, then puts his beer down on the table. He shifts in his chair, stretches both arms out, and places them on the arms of my chair. He drags the chair, with me in it, closer to him. He leans in and kisses me, tasting of beer and some kind of candy he must have had at Nolan's office. I can't help smiling in spite of myself as he pulls away. He smirks at me.

"You kissed back, so that means my no-cock-blocking streak continues. Put me to bed, she-devil."

I shake my head, repressing my laughter and say, "One of these days, you're going to realize you're over fifty and not fifteen, and you're going to be as horrified as I am at the lame things come out of your mouth."

He gasps in mock hurt and, putting a hand over his heart, says, "The she-devil has pricked my heart. I bleed."

I lick my lips and lean in towards him, kissing him full on the lips. I pull away, look into his eyes that are centimeters from mine, and say, "Get up, wanna-be Romeo." I kiss him again. "It's time for bed."


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you for the reviews and thank you to all the people who have added this story to their favorites and/or alerts. Thank you, thank you thank you for choosing to take this journey with me. _

NOTE: Four weeks after House has started to see Nolan, House continues meeting regularly with him. Meanwhile, something has happened between Cuddy and Arlene. Cuddy will not tell him what happened, but House knows that it was a huge argument. He also senses that the argument involved the topic of himself somehow. House hasn't been able to figure out what occured in spite of numerous schemes, disguised phone calls, inveigling, and just plain whining.

_House's aparment, House's bed_

**[House]**

I'm tracing Cuddy's spine with my fingertips. She's nestled against me, asleep. I feel her even breath on my shoulder, and I feel her hair press into my arm that's supporting her head as she sleeps.

She's lost weight again. I tilt my head a little to look at her. Her nose looks sharper. Her cheekbones look more prominent. There's a slight tightness to her face that wasn't there a few weeks ago. I push away the thought that it's because she skipped out on dinners that I didn't or couldn't show up to, nights that I spent at work or in a bar.

I have the sudden urge to nudge her off my arm, but I fight it and go back to looking at her face. I see the fine lines around her mouth, the laugh lines that are thrown into high relief when fluorescent lights hit her face at a certain angle.

I see her sigh in her sleep, and her brow furrows, causing an indent right above her eyebrow. I trace my thumb lightly over the indent, but she frowns deeper, and this time she starts to whimper a little. I see her startle a little, trying to fight her way back to consciousness or fight something off in her dream. I pull her a little bit closer to me and press my lips at the indent above her brow. "Lisa," I say, in the smallest voice I can, and then, louder, "Cuddy, Cuddy, wake up." I hold her tighter against me and kiss her brow again. "Wake up, wake up."

I feel her startle awake, and her eyelashes flutter against the skin on my shoulder. She gathers her breath and squeezes her arms around me at the same time. "House…House," she says, still sounding half asleep.

I draw away from her a little. I smooth the hair away from her face. Her eyes are jumpy and a little bit watery.

"Hey," I say, noticing how she's trying to keep her gaze on me even in her half jumbled state. "It's me." I smooth her hair further away from her face, so it streams against the sheets. Her gaze is bothering me for some reason, but I ignore it and say, "You wouldn't have happened to be dreaming about Wilson, would you? Cuz then, I can understand your whimpering and wanting to get away from him as fast as possible. I mean, even in a dream, I think he can manage to be the preachy, boring self he always is…"

Her gaze is still scattery, and I wonder if she heard what I said. She lifts her hand and runs it across the right side of my face. Her thumb rasps against my stubble. She swallows thickly. "House," she says. She looks into my eyes directly now, and I see a question in them, but I don't know what she's asking. So I pull her against me again, and I stroke her back because I know that it relaxes her. I press my lips into her hair. I feel her tensing up for an instant, like she's about to say something, but she doesn't, and I hear her breath turn even in a few minutes.

She's asleep again.


	16. Chapter 16

_Cuddy's car_

**[Cuddy]**

"Mom, I'll be there in twenty minutes," I say, the earpiece in my ear, the cell phone in its holding place to my right.

"Alright. I'll be waiting for you outside," she says. She hangs up.

I sigh slightly as I pull the earpiece out of my ear. We haven't spoken for a few weeks. I don't want to deal with her right now, but Rachel asked about her so I bit the bullet and called her about a visit with Rachel. I'm not going to deny Rachel time with her grandmother because she and I had a fight.

I look in the rear view mirror to check on Rachel. She's swaying side to side in her car seat, her brown bangs swaying slightly as she hums and looks at the passing trees outside the window. House is sitting on the opposite side of Rachel, looking out the window and tapping his hand on his knees in time with the tune Rachel is singing. I think he feels my gaze on him because he turns his gaze from the window to meet my eyes in the mirror. I quickly turn my eyes back on the road after I see the flash of light blue. I drive in silence for a while and then sneak a look back at House. He has his head turned back towards the window, but I can tell from the tilt of his head that he's tense about something. I breathe air through my nose. I'll deal with that later. After I drop off Rachel.

"Mama, look!" Rachel says as she stops humming. She points out the window at mom's house and says, "Grandma's house!"

"Yes, sweetie. It's Grandma's house." I pull into the driveway smoothly and shut the engine off. "You ready? Let's get out."

"Okay," Rachel says, fumbling with her seatbelt.

House reaches over and unbuckles Rachel's seatbelt. He lifts her out of the car seat and unto his lap, avoiding his right leg. He opens the car door and steps out, using the door for balance as he puts all his weight on his left leg and lifts Rachel into his arms. Once he's fully outside the car, he sets Rachel on the ground and reaches in the car for his cane.

"Grandma!" Rachel says as she spots mom on the porch steps. She runs over to her.

"Hello, my sweetie!" Mom says as she gets up from where she was sitting. She leans on her own cane. Rachel runs right up to her. Mom reaches down and strokes Rachel on the cheek. She looks at me.

"Hello, Lisa."

"Hi, Mom," I say.

"…."

She doesn't say anything else, but I see her surveying me, surveying House, surveying the distance we are standing apart from each other.

"Thanks for letting Rachel visit," I say, pushing the words out of my mouth. "I'll pick her up Sunday evening, around 5."

She nods. "That's fine." She looks down at Rachel and smiles. "Let's go into the house, Rachel. I have a nice, healthy lunch prepared just for you!" Rachel scrunches up her nose but runs into the house just the same. Behind the screen door, she turns around and waves at me, waves at House. "Bye, mama! Bye, House!" She turns and runs further into the house towards the living room.

I can feel mom's eyes burning a hole in my head, and though I don't want to, I meet her gaze. I force a smile. "Bye, mom. I'll see you soon."

She nods, her eyes still surveying me and House. She walks slowly into the house. I shake my head slightly as I watch her walk away. I turn to get back in the car, and I see that House is already in the car, in the passenger seat. I get in the driver's seat, put on my seatbelt, and start the engine. I pull out the driveway and start to make my way down the street. I sneak a look at House in the mirror, and, to my surprise, I find his gaze waiting there for me.

"We need to talk," he says.

_A diner_

**[House]**

My breakfast burrito is half eaten, the coffee lukewarm and even more tasteless than it was when it was steaming hot. Cuddy drinks her tea and picks at her salad. I eye the way she's pushing her salad around the plate.

"You know, starvation isn't going to make that ass of yours any smaller, so I suggest going back to, oh I don't know, eating." I say, hating how I notice that even her wrist seems thinner than before.

She glares at me, her blue eyes flashing, but they soften almost immediately. She knows I'm right.

"I know. You're right. I'll start eating better. I just…I have a lot on my mind lately," she says, wrapping her hands around her mug.

"Do you care to share what's been on your mind with, oh, I don't know, the man who's sleeping next to you practically every night?"

She looks up at me and studies me. Her eyes run over my face, as if weighing whether or not to finally say it, say something. That's it. I'm losing patience. I can't wait for her to talk anymore. This is insane. She should be paying for my therapy if she's going to add this much stress to my life. I take the offensive.

"Cuddy, if you don't tell me what's bothering you, I can't fix whatever it is I'm doing wrong and if I'm not doing something wrong, I can't hire someone to take out the person who is doing something wrong. Either way, throw a man a bone here. I'm in therapy, remember? How much more strain do you think I can take? Unless you hand me a truckload of Vicodin, you need to start talking now, cuz I'm …"

"What would you do if something happened to me?" She asks suddenly, cutting in.

What? What the…

"Would you look after Rachel? Would you at least come to see her, make sure she's okay?"

My mind goes blank and I feel my mouth getting dry. Is she sick? Is this a test? Is this what Arlene asked her? Is she hiding a CAT scan that she got behind my back? I purposefully gulp once, and focus my eyes on hers.

I don't know the right thing to say when she won't tell me what's wrong.

"Cuddy…" I start. I see her waiting for me to continue, but I see flashbacks of what we went through with her last health scare and I have to shut my eyes for a second. I open my eyes again, look at her with as much conviction I can muster and say softly, "You know I would." I can't promise her that I will, but I have to trust that she knows me well enough to believe that I would to everything in my power to try. I would try to. I would try.

Cuddy's brow is furrowed again, and she reaches her hand out across the table and rests it on my hand. She strokes her thumb across the back of my hand.

"I know," she says. "Thank you."

"Is that what Arlene nagged you about?"

She takes her hand away from mine and looks at her cup of tea again. "That, and other things." She says. She takes a deep breath and looks up at me, her chin in that angle I know well. I know that she's decided to tell me now, tell me everything.

"Let's go home. We should talk somewhere private."

I nod, grab my cane, and stand up.

She gets up, too.

As we pay for our food at the counter and leave the diner, I feel Cuddy smack my butt as we walk towards the car. A little surprised, I turn to look at her. She's still serious and a bit too solemn for my liking, but she's half-smirking as well.

"Don't worry," she says, as she runs her hands over my shoulders which have tensed into knots. She rests her arms around my neck. "I'm not sick. I'm fine. Rachel's fine. Mom just…she…we got into a huge argument about a month ago and she made me think about some things."

I rest my hands lightly on her waist. "About me?" I ask.

"Yes," she says. "About you, about me, about where this relationship is going, about…whether you can handle me, Rachel, our life together." She steps closer to me and hugs me, her reaching up on her tiptoes to rest her cheek against mine. "About whether you'll stay when things get hard or complicated," she whispers.

I feel my heartbeat accelerate and I feel my mouth getting dry again. My mind is threatening to go blank again, but I manage to find my voice. "Didn't you know you're stuck with me?" I say. "I'm damaged goods, so there's a no-refund, no-return policy," I say, bring up my right hand to cradle her head against mine.

I feel her laugh lightly. She pulls away from me and starts to walk towards the car again. "Come on, let's go home. I'll give you the play by play on my fight with mom and…we need to talk some more because…there's something I want to run by you about Rachel."

I nod. "Okay." What else can I say?

I follow her to the car and get in.


	17. Chapter 17

_Cuddy's House_

_**Cuddy**_

House and I are sitting on the sofa. House has his feet propped up on the coffee table, doing his usual lounging pose. I am at my customary place when we're on the couch, nestled into his left side. I feel his breath hit the top of my head lightly. When he moves his head slightly, I feel the stubble on his chin bristle against the skin on my forehead.

I want to just fall asleep this way because I think I'll get a good night's sleep for once, but I've put this off for long enough. I push myself slightly away from his side and twist my body so that my elbow rests against the head of the sofa. I look at him. Here goes…something.

"House, how old are you?" I ask.

He arches an eyebrow at me and studies me for a moment. To my surprise, he doesn't quip or joke or deflect. "51," he just says, still studying me.

"Right. The age where people are pretty much set in their ways."

He studies me for a good minute. Out of the blue, he takes a breath and suddenly asks, "Are you going to ask me to adopt Rachel?"

I'm a bit shocked at the suddenness of his question, but this is House and what did I expect. Well, if he's going to be direct, I'll be direct, too. God knows I've been circling this long enough.

"No. I'm asking you if you could look out for her when I can't be there for her. Like if I'm out of the state at a medical conference and she needs to go to the hospital. I'm asking you to take her to the hospital, to make sure she gets the right treatment." I pause for a moment before continuing.

"And…if, God forbid, something happens to me and I can't take care of her anymore, I'm asking if you can oversee her education, make sure she keeps going to the schools that she goes to. God knows I don't want Mom to choose schools for her. If…I'm not there for her for some reason, I want her to live with Mom, but I also want you to check up on her, make sure that Mom's not driving her crazy, pressuring her into doing things that she-"

"I thought Julia's the appointed guardian," House interrupts.

I look at him in surprise, wondering how the hell he knew that.

"I'm drafting a new will. Julia will be there for Rachel if Mom can't be there for her. Julia has her share of rugrats running around in her life."

House looks at me and says, "And where did this newfound consideration of mortality come from?"

"Well, that's where Mom comes in. Our fight, she..." I look into House's eyes and the words tumble out faster than I can filter them. "She basically pointed out that I'm over forty, you're over fifty, we're not married, Rachel isn't even in preschool yet, are we ever going to get married, why do you still have your apartment, are you even capable of looking after Rachel, do you want to look after Rachel, what am I going to do about your drugs, your therapy, do I even think about the future of where our relationship is going, if I don't, why don't I think about it, am I so insecure about you, about us that I _can't_ think about the future more than one day at a time, if I'm that insecure what the hell am I doing with you, I'm not getting any younger-"

"Stop," House says.

I didn't realize that my eyes were slowly filling with tears or that I was talking so fast. The words just tumbled out of me.

"This is what you've been so upset about?" He asks.

"Yes," I say.

"The only reason you'd be that upset for that amount of time is if something or all of what she said struck a chord with you," He states simply, like he's giving out a diagnosis.

I know what he's saying is true because I've been tortured with doubt since my blowup with mom. I take the plunge.

"House," I say, "Is this, is what we have…something permanent for you?"

He studies me, smirks suddenly, takes my hand in his and says, "Are you asking me to marry you, Dr. Cuddy?"

I snort lightly, taking my hand away from his, smacking him. "No, you idiot. I'm asking if Rachel and I are fixtures in your life, if you see us with you five, ten, fifteen years from now."

"I barely think past lunch," he says.

I roll my eyes at him. He's joking in this situation? I'm about to get angry, but he lightly touches my chin and turns my head so that I'm looking directly into his eyes.

"Cuddy," he says, "I don't think past lunch, but I know that I'll always need my cane. Cuz, in case you haven't noticed," he says, pointing to his leg, "I've got a bum leg." He stretches his legs out, rests his head back on the head of the couch, but keeps his gaze on me. "See, I don't think past lunch, but there are certain things that I need. And, in case you haven't noticed, I…don't do so well if I don't see you and Rachel. I know that I need to see you or both of you at the end of the day. I don't plan picnics and weddings, but… I know I need to be with you, just like I know I need my cane."

I'm speechless for a full thirty seconds.

House clears his throat and says, "Judging from the stunned silence, I think I can continue. So, now that we've established what my 'feelings' are" he says, putting the word "feelings" in air quotation marks with his fingers, "I think I can also say that, yeah, I'll sign whatever you want me to sign for Rachel." He takes my hand in his. "I'm not responsible enough to adopt Rachel, but I can be there for her when she needs someone like me." He traces his thumb over the back of my hand. "Someone has to fend off Arlene for Rachel from time to time, right?" He says.

I'm still in shock but when I feel him rubbing the back of my hand, something snaps in me and I kiss him, hard.

House is surprised and holds me awkwardly, but he kisses me back. He breaks the kiss after a while and says, "Whoa, little lady." I ignore him and throw my arms around him, peppering his neck with kisses. I've somehow ended up straddling him. I kiss him once more on the mouth then trap his head against my chest, my arms cradling him. I close my eyes. He didn't answer all of my questions or doubts, but he answered the most important one.


	18. Chapter 18

**House**

I'm trapped between Cuddy's breasts.

"Cuddy?" I say. "I like where I'm at right now, but, uh, do you think we can move this to the bedroom?"

I feel her laugh rumble against me, and she steps away from me. She' smiling at me.

I smile back, slightly. I don't really feel like we just passed a watershed moment, although I know that she's treating it like one. I see why she was upset, but she was being an idiot for being upset about it for so long, for not just asking me, confronting me. If she wasn't sure how I felt, why didn't she just ask me? And, why the hell did she doubt how I felt in the first place? Women. I'll never understand them. But, right now, I understand that she's relieved for the first time in a long time, and, more importantly, she's horny. I understand that a lot.

She takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom.

_The bedroom_

The room feels unseasonably cold, and I feel the goosebumps on Cuddy's skin as I kiss her. I have her trapped underneath me on the bed, and I feel her nipples erect against my skin. I bring my mouth to the hollow in her neck and kiss her there. I run my fingers down her neck. Her clavicle feels sharper under my fingertips than I'm used to.

"Cuddy," I say, kissing her collarbone. "You need to eat more." I coast my fingertips down her waist. "Heroin chic is so fifteen years ago."

"Well, I'm sure I'll have an appetite," she says, in between heavy breaths, slipping her hand down my chest, my stomach, down to my groin, "soon, after we engage in some, uh.. physical activity."

I coast my fingers further down her body and I feel that she's ready for me.

"Wow. Minimal foreplay and we're already at a greenlight for takeoff?"

She laughs and groans. "Shut up before you kill the mood any further with lame remarks like that one."

I laugh once then capture her lips in mine, and I bite gently down on her lower lip as I grip her hips and enter her. I feel her breath hitch against my mouth.

Oh, God. She feels so tight. I have to thank whoever invented yoga and Cuddy's obsessive practice of it.

I move my hips slowly into hers, kissing her. I settle more deeply into her after a while, and she wraps her legs around my waist, arching her back as she does so. She feels so amazing and I want to hold out but she moves her hips up towards me possessively, in a faster rhythm. This woman will be the death of me. I still her movements briefly then start to push into her harder, faster. She brings her hands to my shoulders and lets out a soft gasp when I hit her sweet spot. She moans audibly and I cradle her face between my hands, looking into her eyes as I move even faster into her. Her breathing accelerates and she closes her eyes, arching her neck back in a slight grimace as I feel her clamp down on me and pulse around my cock. I can't hold back and I release into her as she moans, and I buck into her gently as we both come down from our orgasms.

I bend my head and capture her lips in mine, my face a little sweaty and her skin now warm against me. I roll off her and hold her in my arms. I want her to stay warm. I stroke her arm as I place random kisses on the top of her head. She giggles and rubs her hand across my stomach. She kisses my chest.

"Cuddy, you're going to have to pay for my sessions for the past month." I say.

"What? Why?" She says, bringing her lips away from my chest and looking up at me.

"You caused so much stress in my life for the past month that it's the only reasonable thing for you to do," I say.

She knows I'm joking, but I need to say things like this to her, now, after our conversation earlier, because, well… Just because.

She pokes me in the chest. "I think that if I tally all the hours you owe me for clinic duty, a month of therapy deducts a tiny chunk of the debt you owe the hospital," she says.

I snort. "I thought we weren't supposed to talk about work in bed?"

She tilts her head and smiles at me. "I'm the boss, so I can do what I want."

I bring her closer up to me so that I can look into her eyes. Her face is slightly flushed, her eyes sparkling. I cup her ass in my hand. "Yes, ma'am," I say, imitating a Texas accent as I kiss her on the nose.


	19. Chapter 19

_About two months later_

_A Saturday afternoon, at a park_

**Cuddy**

My face rests against the soft fabric of House's t-shirt, the warmth of his chest on my cheek, the heat of the sun bouncing off the back of my head. My arms are around his torso as I lean my whole upper body into him while I'm sitting on a big rock in the park. Rachel is playing in the sandbox a few feet away. I can see her laugh out of the corner of my eye, see sticking her tongue out the slightest bit once in a while when she laughs out loud. House is standing between my jean-clad legs, both his hands planted next to either side of my hips on the smooth rock surface . I consider that, right now, it looks like he's trapped between my legs and that I'm trapped between his arms and anyone passing by would probably throw a stick at us and tell us to get a hotel room, but I don't care. I'm transfixed by the swell of his chest and how the freshly laundered t-shirt smells mixed in with the scent of his soap, of his skin, and the ropes on his arms are distracting me as they shift slightly once in a while as he adjusts his balance. I want to wrap my legs around his hips and pull him closer to kiss him senseless. I want…wait. Why am I so insanely horny. We just had sex this morning. House sure seems content with me constantly touching him all day, but it occurs to me that I am…um… more hands-on than usual. I loosen my grip on his torso and start to move away from him, but he wraps his arms around my back and secures me in my original position against his chest.

"Where do you think you're going?" House says. I feel his voice vibrate against me.

"Mmm," I can't help but say as I snuggle closer into his chest, taking in his smell and the feel of his warm chest, his soft t-shirt again.

"We should take Rachel home now," I say.

"Mmm-hmm" he says, cupping the back of my head with his hand and resting his chin on top of my head.

"Since when are you such a cuddler?" I ask, muffled against his shirt.

"Since I discovered that cuddling involves your breasts pressed up against interesting parts of my body and since cuddling always precedes sex or, wait, always follows sex. Either way, it involves sex, so, from this moment forth, I proclaim that I am House the Cuddler."

I laugh and pry myself away from him. I start kissing him and am getting lost in the feeling of his mouth, of his tongue when I hear Rachel's giggle getting closer and closer. I pull myself away from House with an effort and look down. Rachel is smiling at me, holding out the trophies she found in the park today: a rock, a worm, a twig. She looks proud. I smile at her and push House a bit away from me and jump down from the rock, smoothing Rachel's hair. I talk to her about her findings and coax her into leaving the worm at the park. I brush Rachel's hands of dirt, reach into my back pocket for the miniature bottle of antibacterial liquid and squirt the gel into her hands. Rachel rubs her hands together, looking fascinated by the gel that disappears into her skin. After she's done, she holds her hands out to my face and says, "All clean!" I hug her and pick her up in my arms, and we start walking to the parking lot. House takes his place next me silently, and I feel his hand at the small of my back, resting against me lightly as we walk to the car.


	20. Chapter 20

_Later that afternoon, Cuddy's Bedroom_

**Cuddy**

"Is Rachel out for her nap?"

"Yes," I say.

House is watching me, studying me as I stand in the doorway. I see the definition of his shoulders, his chest, his arms in the t-shirt, and I take in how tall he looks, standing in front of the shade-drawn windows. I know that he's watching me watching him, but I don't care. I need to feel his skin under my fingertips. Now.

I walk over to him, put my arms around his neck and kiss him. I sigh at the feeling of his incredibly soft lips contrasting with the coarseness of his stubble. I suck gently at his tongue and press my body against his, my breasts firm against his chest. He breaks the kiss and starts placing incredibly gentle kisses at the juncture where my neck and shoulder meet.

"Cuddy?" he says, in between kisses. I feel goosebumps erupting on my skin from the feeling of his lips and his body pressed against mine, and I can barely hear what he's saying. I bring a hand up to rifle through his hair and manage to squeak out, "Huh?" I start to breathe heavily as he brings a hand up to cup my breast. I arch my neck back as he starts to fondle my breasts, and, as he brings his lips up to mine once more, he says, "Umm…It can wait."

House kisses me so completely that I feel like I'm floating, dizzy. I can't fathom opening my eyes because the pleasure is so intense. House starts kissing my neck again as he unbuttons my cardigan quickly, and he shoves it off my shoulders after the last button comes undone. He immediately grabs my camisole and pulls it over my head. He's about to kiss me again, but I stop him and strip him of his t-shirt. Once his shirt is discarded, he kisses me again, and holds me against his chest. I can feel my nipples hard against his chest, and the goosebumps continue to travel throughout my whole torso. His lips still on mine, House brings his hands to the button on my jeans and undoes the clasp, and zips down the zipper. He breaks the kiss to peel down my jeans, and I kick them off my feet, bending slightly. As I straighten my body, I reach for his jeans and practically rip open the button. I slide down the zipper slowly, teasingly, and I pull down his jeans enough so that they rest low on his hips. He sheds his jeans on his own, and kicks them away. He pulls me to him, and we make our way to the bed, our lips glued to each other and our hands touching each other everywhere.

I lay down on the bed and shimmy my thong down my legs. He takes his boxers off as he gets on the bed, coming towards me for another kiss. He hovers over my body now, his tongue gently battling mine as he braces himself with his arms on either side of my head, and I run my fingertips over the muscles of his shoulders and upper back.

I can hardly breathe as he kisses me and cups my breasts in his hands, his thumbs grazing the tips of my nipples and his erection nudging at my entrance below. I know and he knows that I'm ready for him, and thrusts into me with one long push that makes both of us moan out loud. He nips at my lips as I feel him throb inside me, and I arch my back as he brings his arms around my waist, his hands tugging my pelvis closer up into his every time he thrusts into me. I let out involuntary moans every time he pulls me closer into him, and I feel him so deep and perfect inside of me that I can hardly stand it. "Lisa," he groans, breathless himself, as he drives deep in and out of me. "Umm…Greg," I say as I feel the pressure building and building. When the pressure is driving me crazy, he brings his hands to my ass and pulls my core towards his pelvis as he starts to pound into me with more force. I gasp and can't help but arch my neck back. I start to cry out every time he pounds into me, and finally I feel my walls squeezing and contracting so tightly that I almost scream with the pressure and release. I feel House continue to thrust into me roughly as I feel my orgasm rip through me, and I feel him forcefully come inside of me with his own short shout of completion. We rock into each other gently, continuously, as we gulp in air and feel the sweat cooling our temples. House collapses on top of me, his head in the crook of my neck. After we catch our breaths, we're still breathing heavily but not like we've just run a marathon. He brings his face to mine and rests his forehead against mine. "Cuddy," he says, pressing his lips just barely against mine. "Mmm…" I breathe, my eyes closed. "Are you pregnant?" My eyes fly open.


	21. Chapter 21

**House**

Cuddy's eyes are open, boring into mine just a finger's length apart.

"What?" She asks sharply. We're both slightly breathless from sex.

"Are you pregnant?" I ask again.

Cuddy rolls her eyes and gently pushes on my shoulders to indicate that she wants to get off of her. I roll off to the side but turn my body and face so that I'm facing her. She doesn't say anything and just brings her left arm up cover her eyes with her left hand.

"Well?" I ask. I've wanted to ask her for a week now, but I wasn't sure until today. She has all the symptoms. She's eating more now, but I notice that she chooses foods that taste sweeter than the sawdust-flavored foods she used to eat with relish, and she wants sex now more than ever. At first I just thought it was because she stopped worrying so much about me, but the swell of her breasts feel different, and we haven't stopped having sex for over a month now. Daily. She never told me that she had her period and wanted to wait until it was over. It's been…five or six weeks since her last period, from what I can tell.

I reach out to touch her arm. "Cuddy," I start.

"Shut up. I'm thinking." She says, her face still covered by her hand. I wait.

Two minutes later, she brings her hand down and shifts so that she's facing me, leveling her head on the pillow so that our faces are directly in line with each other.

"Maybe," she whispers. I can't breathe. I knew this was a possible answer. I asked her the damn question, but the word sounds different coming out of her mouth. I can't think of anything to say, and I feel myself swallow thickly. I feel myself looking away.

Cuddy bring her hand up to my face, cupping my cheek, forcing me to look at her again.

"I've been irregular for such a long time now that I don't really keep track of my cycle. But…I do keep track of when I take my birth control pills, and there was a day a while ago when I forgot to take one, so I took two the next day."

"Since when do you forget to take birth control pills?" I blurt out.

Cuddy looks hurt for a moment, but she wipes the looks away from her eyes and says with a smirk, "Well, we just came back from dinner and then got….preoccupied when we got home, so I missed taking it on time that night before we went to sleep. We were both so exhausted that we just fell asleep. I took two the next day, like I said, but, well, 'imperfect' doses are only 91 percent effective. You know that."

I feel a little numb, but I feel my brain follow the inevitable path of logic.

"So, you _are_ pregnant?" I state rather than ask.

"Like I said, House, maybe. I told you, I've been irregular for a while now, I may just be really late," she says, her voice softer than usual.

I don't know what I'm feeling, but I do know that I have to know. Right now. I sit up and start rummaging around for my clothes.

"What are you doing?" she asks, her voice to my back.

"I'm going to get a pregnancy test from the drugstore." I say, pulling on my boxers. I put on my shirt.

I feel her hand on my back. "House?" she says, and I hear her voice waver. I stop my movements and look down into my lap. I don't know what to say to her. I don't know how to feel right now, but I'll be damned if I'll be that miserable son of a bitch I used to be with her. I can't afford that. Not now. I take a breath and turn so that I'm facing her. I reach out and cup her face in my hands, and I see her eyes sparkling with tears she's holding back. I see her swallow thickly.

"Hey," I say, caressing her cheeks with my thumbs. "I love you," I tell her, something I haven't uttered out loud in months now.

I see a tear escape and I lean in to kiss it away. The salty taste in my mouth is jarring. "Whatever this is, we have to know, right?" I say. She nods silently. I pull her into my chest and kiss the top of her head. "I'll be right back, okay? Stay here." I feel her nod into my chest.


	22. Chapter 22

**House**

Cuddy is in my arms, nestled into my side. We're in bed, waiting for the results that rest in the bathroom. We haven't said much since I got back from the drugstore. She just took the packet and went into the bathroom, came back and crawled in next to me on the bed.

I look over at the red numbers of the clock. It's time.

Cuddy notices me looking at the clock, and she takes a breath. She gets out of the bed. I see her walk to the bathroom. I feel my heart beat faster as I see her disappear in the door. I see her peering at the stick on the sink counter, not touching it. From what I can see, she doesn't react at all. I see her turn and she's walking towards me again, to the bed. Why doesn't she say something? Anything? I know I'm gaping at her as she gets into bed again and resumes the position she was situated before in my arms. She presses her lips to my chest and rubs my stomach with her hand lightly. I bring my arm around to hold her. "I think I need to schedule a sonogram," she says. I hear a whoosh of air and realize that it was me, that I let out a large breath or air. I feel like I'm flying or falling or both, and I unconsciously tighten my grip around her. I can feel a smile threatening my lips. I don't know what I'm feeling, but this, this is crazy. I shift her carefully and put pressure on her body so that she cooperates with me. She's now straddling me, and I have my hands on her hips. She looks at my face, and I see that she's relieved. A smile threatens her face, too, and she links her hands around my neck. I lean in to kiss her, the lightest touch I can manage on her lips. I can feel her smile against my lips. "We're still not sure, you know. We need a sonogram, blood-work," she says.

I look into her eyes and say, "I know." I pull her into my chest, and I feel her relaxing against me. "We'll go in tomorrow, get all the tests done, the works," I say. "Okay," she says, her mouth warm against my chest.


	23. Chapter 23

_Writer's note: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, everyone! I've been updating like crazy the past couple of days, but my muse has been bugging me to put words on paper, to push the story out. When your muse is pushing you, you have to hit 'publish'! Thanks again, everyone, and have a great weekend! (And..please don't hate me for this chapter. In my mind's eye, this is how the story unfolds.)_

_The next day, at the hospital._

**Cuddy**

My stomach is doing flip-flops as we wait for the doctor. I jump slightly when Dr. Chang walks into the room, looking cool and professional. She looks over the test results in her hand. I know that House had the tests results rushed through. For once, I don't care.

"Okay, Dr. Cuddy," Dr. Chang says, neither cheerful nor impassive. "We're going to do the sonogram now"

She looks hesitant for a second, but I see her deciding something in her head. My neck stiffens a bit, and, at that moment, House walks into the room. Dr. Chang eyes him for a second. House seems to notice the tension in the room and pulls up into the stool next to my bed quietly.

"You're both doctors, so I'll just lay everything out for you," Dr. Chang says. "All your blood tests indicate that you're pregnant," she says, and I feel a flutter in my chest. "But," she continues, and my heart sinks. "While your HCG levels are elevated, they are lower than average," she finishes. I'm stunned. I feel my mouth going dry, and my mind races through the IVF treatments I went through, the fact that I'm over 40. All risk factors for…for…

Dr. Chang clears her throat and says, "Let's do the sonogram, shall we?" I look over on instinct at House in what I feel to be desperation, and he's just looking at me with a stunned look on his face. I reach out for his hand, and he takes it blindly.

Dr. Chang lifts my hospital gown up to my chest and squirts the cool liquid onto my stomach. She moves the wand around. House and my eyes are glued to the screen, and my hands are clenching his so hard that my fingers hurt. The wand keeps moving, but I can't see anything, hear anything. Where…where is it? Show me something. Come on, something, anything. It's a long moment before Dr. Chang stops moving the wand around. She puts the wand down and looks at the floor for a moment. She looks at House and me. We're gaping at her, waiting for the words that we don't want to hear. "I'm sorry, Dr. Cuddy," she says. "All signs indicate that you have an ectopic pregnancy."


	24. Chapter 24

_Three months later_

**House**

Cuddy is nestled against me, asleep. I know it's going to be another long night because I know I'll need at least a few more hours to fall asleep. My mind runs over the past few months, as it does every night. I stop at the peculiarities. The procedure, taking Cuddy home. Cuddy not talking for a week, barely eating, me trying to force her to eat more and ending up yelling at her to stop being an idiot. The night that followed, the details of which only Nolan knows about, the drunken binge, the bar fight, the law suit only prevented by Nolan happening to know the pathetic jerk who got two black eyes. Cuddy going back to work, as if nothing happened, largely ignoring the whispers and stares of the nurse brigade. Wilson, overbearing and annoying, hovering above both of us. Cuddy with a bit of light in her eyes as Rachel starts pre-pre-school and brings home gold stars every day.

We still haven't talked about it.

I exhale softly, not wanting to wake her, and shut my eyes. Christ. I need to sleep. I feel Cuddy shift noisily and I squint my eyes open. Her eyes are looking right into mine. We say nothing for a few moments, and then she brings her hand out to cup my cheek. This is the first time she's initiated contact with me in three months.

"We were too old to be new parents anyway," she says, smirking, but I see the strange light behind her eyes. She strokes my cheek. "I'm going to be forty-four, you're going to be fifty-two. People would have thought we were his grandparents."

I consider what she says and think that our kid wouldn't have been that much younger than Rachel so her argument doesn't really make sense, but I keep my mouth shut. I need to hear her talk.

"I mean, what were we going to do? Plan on going to his graduation in walkers?" She laughs shakily and continues to stroke my cheek.

I feel strange, listening to this coloring of her voice. I don't recognize this Cuddy. I need to say…

"Lisa," I start.

She lets out a soft laugh again, but the sound chills me. She stops laughing and stops stroking my cheek, too. She looks into my eyes. She swallows.

"I keep thinking…that maybe we would have had a boy," she says, the words sounding more like a question than a statement. Her eyes fill with tears. I feel a lump rising in my throat. "And," she continues, breathing like it pains her lungs, "and that he had your eyes," she says, tracing a finger gently over one of my eyelids. I bite my lip as I feel pressure building in my head and behind my eyes. "And your dimple," she says, moving the finger down to the lower part of my cheek, touching where my dimple is. Her fingers are shaking now, and my view of her is blurred. I blink and feel wetness sliding down my face. I instinctively clasp her hand in mine. I hear her breathing become more labored and I realize that she's crying. Her sobs are shaking her entire body, and her shoulders jerk in irregular movements. I look at her face, lined with tears and filled with so much pain that I just want to hold her and help her sleep. I pull her in my arms, and I stroke her back as I feel her shoulders continue to jerk up and down. I feel her whole body trembling against me. I stroke her back as I feel her tears dampening my shirt. I kiss her hair, her scalp and squeeze her against me. There's a hotness behind my eyes and in my chest, and it burns. I hold her for a long time until I feel her relax gradually in my arms. I know she's asleep.


	25. Chapter 25

_Two months later_

**Cuddy**

House is asleep, and I feel his stomach rising evenly under my hand. One of my arms is wrapped around his waist, and my head rests lightly against his back. I know he's tired, but there's something I want to say. Have to say. I press my lips into his neck and scoot closer to his body. I bring one of my legs up so that I'm enveloping him from behind. I feel House shift a little and exhale. "Mmh…" he lets out. I snuggle in closer, kissing his neck again. This time, I feel him reach for my arm that's draped around him. He finds my hand.

"What, woman? I need my beauty sleep. Hotness doesn't regenerate itself, you know," he mumbles.

I laugh softly. "Hey," I say, jiggling him with my leg. "I have to tell you something."

I hear him groan but he extricates himself from my arms and legs and turns so that he's facing me. He looks at me sleepily. "What?" he mumbles.

I bring my hand out to touch the center of his chest and rub him there. I trace my finger down the center of his chest, down his stomach, and I rest the palm of my hand there. I lean in and kiss him on the lips, lightly licking his lower lip. I feel his surprise and the low grunt as he feels my tongue against his mouth. He pulls me away from him and says, "You've decided that the first time you want to have sex in months is when I'm overworked, half-asleep, and tired?"

I ignore him and start rifling my fingers gently through his hair.

"No, you idiot. I've decided," I say, looking into his eyes. "I've decided that…yes, I want to have sex with you, and…I, I don't want to use contraception. I want to try again," I say, the words coming out awkward and in a rush.

I hear him take in a sharp breath, and I feel his sharp eyes travel in lightning speed all over my face, looking for…for what?

"Why?" he says, his voice barely above a whisper. The silence and tension is deafening.

"Because…because I want to," I say. "Because I want to," I say simply. The only thing that I can say.

I expect him to barrage me with questions, with doubts, with arguments on how having a child to get over a child is the most idiotic thing to do for everyone, but he's quiet. He looks intensely into my eyes and studies my whole face for a good thirty seconds. Then, he clasps one of my hands and laces his fingers through mine. "Okay," he says, his voice a normal speaking tone now. He brings his face close to mine and kisses me, lightly capturing my lower lip beneath his teeth. "Okay," he says against my lips.

_Some minutes later_

"Make love to me," I say as I kiss his lips and feel him dipping lower to kiss my chin, my neck, the hollow in my neck. We're naked now, and my arms are above my head, my neck arched back. House's hips are between my thighs, and he's bracing himself above me with his arms. He brings his mouth back to mine as he brings one hand to gently touch my left breast, gently kneading and grazing my nipple.

He brings his hand right between my breasts and traces a line down my torso as he kisses the side of my neck. He brings his hand lower, and I feel myself grip him tightly as he tests my wetness. He continues to caress me there as we kiss, our tongues moving slowly against each other. After a short moment, I find myself bucking up suddenly when his fingers reach a part of me that sends shivers down my spine. He kisses the corner of my mouth as he gradually withdraws his fingers from me, and I feel him shifting back into position between my legs. I feel him against my inner thigh, and before long I feel him against my core. It's been so long since we've had sex that there's a little worry in the back of my mind, but as he pushes into me, I hear myself let out a moan and arch my back off the bed as he slowly makes all of his length inside of me. He kisses me gently again and then starts moving, rolling his hips into mine in a slow rhythm. I haven't felt him inside me for such a long time that I feel a little bit of pain, but that soon vanishes as I lose myself in his rhythm and start to rock my hips along with his. We find a rhythm that's neither fast nor slow and he actually slows down as he buries himself deep inside me to reach the spot he knows drives me insane. I let out a loud moan and grip his biceps. He hits the spot again, and I think I'll explode with the pressure. "Mmm.. House," I say, and then I feel him start to pick up his speed again. We're moving faster now, and I feel myself shiver every time he thrusts into me. I hear myself moan as I hear him grunt, the tiniest moans being released from his mouth as well. I wrap my legs around him as we move even faster, and I feel him explode inside me as I feel my orgasm tense my whole body and take my breath away.

House is still bracing himself on his arms, and his face is sweaty, and a bit red. I breathe heavily and bring my head up to give him a little peck on the lips. He smiles lightly as I pull away, and he rolls me into his side as he gets off me and settles into his place in the bed.

"Good night," he says, his arms around me. I feel his lips graze the top of my head.

"Good night," I say, and I close my eyes as I feel sleep overcoming me.


	26. Chapter 26

**Cuddy**

_A medical conference in San Francisco, a hotel_

_Cuddy and House were both supposed to attend a conference for diagnostic medicine. Cuddy made it to the conference since day 1 but House stayed behind at PPTH to solve a patient's case. This is day 3 of the conference. Between travel times and the conference itself, Cuddy and House haven't seen each other for five days. House makes it to San Francisco for the final day, day 3._

"Hello, medicine woman," I hear House's voice say behind my back. I'm reaching for some water at the snack table before the afternoon session starts in the conference room. I can't help the smile that stretches my lips, and soon I feel a warm hand rest against the small of my back. I can sense him shifting to stand to my left. He pretends to look interested in the drink assortments on the table and looks forward, not looking at me, with his hand still resting on the small of my back. I turn my head to look at him.

"And who might you be?" I ask quizzically.

"I," he says, turning to face me, but doesn't finish and darts his eyes around our general area. Finding nobody paying attention to us, he leans in towards me and I feel his smile against mine as our lips touch. Our peck is only for a second, but he somehow manages to slide his hand from my back to squeeze my ass as our peck ends. I jump slightly and almost let out a squeal but I manage to not make a sound because I do not _squeal._ Not in public, anyway.

"I'm Greg," he says, looking at the drink assortment again. "You're hot. Wanna go out with me tonight?"

I look straight forward, too, playing along. "I'm Lisa. It's nice to meet you…_Greg. _And, as tempting as your offer sounds, sorry, I have plans for tonight."

"Oh, really? Do those plans involve sex toys, by any chance, and a cripple with a cane?" he responds.

I sigh dramatically. "Sadly, no. I left all my toys at home, and I can't seem to find my middle-aged cripple anywhere. I can't spend time with him even if I find him anyway. I have pages and pages of budget reports I have to review tonight."

I can almost _feel_ House furrowing his brow and open his mouth to protest, but I discreetly reach out my left hand to cover his right and say, "But I do have some time right now, though. Do you…want to go hang out with me in my room?"

We're looking at each other now, and the blue eyes I've missed so much are blazing with mischief. His lip twitches. "Okay," he says, shrugging. "But only if you entertain me. Hot people can be so _boring_ sometimes."

I run my hand up his to grab his forearm. I stroke my thumb against his arm gently. "You won't be bored," I say.

* * *

We kiss in the elevator, our lips finding each other, our bodies melting into each other as we hold each other as close as we can. We haven't spent this amount of time away from each other ever before in our relationship. Sure, we'd be busy, but we always went home and saw each other or ran into each other at the hospital. Since we've been on Mission Make a Baby, we've had sex practically every day, and frankly five days away from him has been killing me, in all sorts of different ways. I bite his lower lip gently as the elevator dings open on our floor, and I'm silently grateful that our ride was undisturbed. I take his hand and lead him to the hotel room. He has his arms around my waist and is placing kisses on my neck, so it's slow going to the door of the room, but we make it. I'm silently grateful there's no one in the hallway. I take out the key from my purse and impatiently jab it in the slot, and I push the door open.

As the door swings to show the entrance of the room, House pushes me into the room quickly and shuts the door. He presses me against the door and kisses me, and removes his jacket. He kisses all over my neck as he takes my suit jacket off, and before I know it he's sliding his hands down my back to tug at the zipper of my skirt. I feel him undo the zipper while I unbutton his wrinkled collar shirt. He's not wearing a t-shirt underneath today, so I smooth my hands over his torso as he zips my skirt down and pushes it down over my hips. The skirt drops to the ground with some shimmying from me, and I already feel him peeling off my top. That's discarded quickly, too, and soon I'm kissing him in my bra and thong. I push his shirt off his shoulders and work on his belt buckle. I unzip and unbutton and push his jeans down. He steps out of them, and we kiss, clumsy and tumbling towards the bed. Once our legs are touching the edge of the bed, I feel a surge of something tinted with energy and desire and push him to sit on it.

I climb on top of him and straddle him. I attack his mouth with mine as I feel him caress my back and then undo the clasp of my bra. Once my bra is gone, he starts kissing my breasts immediately, sucking, kneading, and lightly biting. I can't help but shut my eyes and arch my back, and I chafe against his erection. As I feel his hands moving to pull my thong down, I reach down and take him out of the slit of his boxers. I start to stroke him. "Ohhh…." He groans as he brings his head up from my breasts and buries it in the side of my neck. As I continue to stroke him, he lightly bites my shoulder and then brings his hand to mine to stop my stroking. "Are you trying to kill me?" he asks in a groan.

"Maybe," I say, pressing my core against his erection as I lean in to lick his ear. He holds me in his arms for a moment and sighs. "You drive me crazy," he says in a voice that's so small I hardly hear it. Then, suddenly, his arms move from around me to rest on the sides of my hips, and I feel the fabric of my thong tear against my hipbones. I let out a small cry of surprise as I feel his lips back on mine and him pressing my body to indicate that I should move under him. I read his body language, but I won't budge and I stay on top of him. He stops kissing me and looks at me, breathless. "Hey, Make Baby sex, remember?" he says, panting.

"You can be on top of me later," I say, and I position myself so that I'm right above his erection. He moves his hands to hold onto my hips, and I can't wait any longer. I sink down on him in one motion and feel my heat engulf his hardness. We both let out strangled moans, and I feel my muscles shifting tightly around him. I immediately start to ride him, wanting, needing to feel him fast and hard, deep inside of me. I feel him thrusting up to meet me, and, in this position, I feel him so deep that the pleasure is almost painful. We move in a frenzy—me in sharp downward movements while I rock on his hips and him thrusting up into me, hard and gripping at my hips. The pressure between us builds to an intensity that's insane and we slam into each other so hard we're crying out and making noises that neither of us has ever heard before. I feel myself tighten to a tension that's so incredible that I have to shut my eyes and grimace. Then I feel the tension explode as my muscles contract so strongly that I feel a rhythmic pulsing radiating from my core. I feel House come, in spurts deep inside me, and we both cry out at the sensation. After we're spent, we collapse into each other's arms, our heads buried in each other's necks, and we gulp in air. We're both sweaty, and our chests are heaving. House moves his hand to cup the back of my head, and he says, panting, "Now I _know_ you're trying to kill me."


	27. Chapter 27

_Writer's note: Thank you, readers, for sticking with this story! _

**House**

_The hotel room in San Francisco_

Cuddy and I are playing a game.

We are in the hotel room, and she's hovering above me, her arms on either side of my head. Her breasts lightly touch my chest, and I feel her nipples graze my skin. I kiss her lightly on the lips before she can move her head away. Score. House 5 Cuddy 3. She brings her face near mine again, and I lift my head to kiss her again. She bends down like she's going to meet my lips, but then she backs her face away just when our lips are about to meet. Damn. House 5 Cuddy 4. I bring my hands around to feel the smooth skin of her back, and I cup her shoulder blades to tug her towards me. One more point and I win. I feel her resist, but I tug hard and she falls forward so that her face is inches from mine again. I look up into her eyes, and it's as if her dark hair creates a tent for our faces. Her eyes are sparkling, and her lips are slightly apart. Her cheeks are just a little bit flushed. I watch her face for any signs that she's going to move away. I just need one more point. I feel her watching my face, too, to watch for when I'm going to move up to kiss her, so that she can move away just in time. I feel a smirk threatening my lips as I devise a plan that ensures my victory. But I fight the smirk off and lift my head, tilting my head to the right as if I'm going to kiss her at that angle. Cuddy senses my movement and shifts her head quickly in the opposite direction, but I'm already there and her lips meet mine for a fraction of a second. Score! Victory. House 6 Cuddy 4.

I don't say anything, but I raise my eyebrows and grin at her. I win! Cuddy is still hovering above me, and she's pouting a little while narrowing her eyes at me.

"You cheated," she says.

"No," I say. "I devised a brilliant plan and executed it to perfection."

She lifts her chin a little and I see her contemplating whether to draw her argument out further. I see her change her mind, and then she settles herself on top of me so that she's covering me like a blanket. I feel her smile into my shoulder.

I bring my arms around her body and kiss the top of her head. I jiggle her a little. "Hey, I win. You lose. It's reward time."

She doesn't respond. Not fair! "Cuddy," I say and jiggle her again.

I feel her laugh silently in my arms and then she brings my arms away from her back and waist. She sits up so that her legs are on either side of me and then dips the front of her body so that she's hovering just above me. She starts to graze the front of her body against mine in a smooth motion so that I feel her undulate on top of me. Oh God. I feel myself gulp and the blood starts rushing towards a particular body part. She keeps rubbing, no, more like gliding across my chest a few more times, and I have to lean my head back into the pillow and gulp some air. I feel myself breathe heavily.

"Since when," I pant, "did you learn new skills to torture me with?" I say, as I feel her move against me again. She's near my ear now, and she gently bites my ear lobe.

"It's been a long five days," she says and moves away again.

Oh… that's it. I grip her hips so that she can't move anymore, and she sits up, looking down at me with a triumphant expression. I can't think about anything anymore other than the almost painful feeling I have in my cock, and I shift our bodies suddenly so that I bring her under me and I'm on top of her. I kiss her deeply and ask, "Have you been doing your yoga?"

"Yeah," she says suspiciously arching an eyebrow. "Why?" she asks.

I feel the smooth skin of her right leg before I bring her right ankle to rest against my shoulder, and say, "Oh, I don't know. I just thought I'd ask," I say as I bring her left leg up so that her left ankle rests against my other shoulder.

"Oh, really?" she says, her pupils dilated and her breath shallow.

"Yes, really," I say as I push into her. I hear her moan softly and she feels so tight in this position that I have to remember to breathe.

_Some time later…_

Cuddy is nestled into me, and we're both still breathless from the mind blowing sex we just had. I'm glad the air conditioning is on because otherwise the heat of the bodies would kill me. I'm stroking the skin on her back absentmindedly and am about to doze off when Cuddy smacks my arm and says,

"Get up, old man. We have to pack and go back home."

I inwardly groan. "You didn't think I was so old a minute ago," I say. "In fact, if I remember correctly, I think you said something like Oh, oh, oh…"

She smacks my arm again and says, "Shut up."

"Ow," I say. "Old men bruise easily, you know."

She laughs gently and then smoothes her fingers across where she smacked me.

"Five more minutes," she says, still touching my arm.

"Five more minutes," I repeat, and I close my eyes.


	28. Chapter 28

_Two months later_

**[Cuddy]**

House is staring at my stomach. My nightgown rests just under my chest. The material is a bit wrinkled from where House pushed it up a few minutes ago. House is nestled between my legs, his head level with my bare stomach, his hands on either side of my hips. He's not blinking—just staring at my stomach with a laser-like focus.

I sigh. "House, the baby is not going to grow bigger just because you're staring at my stomach."

He doesn't respond, but continues staring, unblinkingly.

"House," I say and bring my left hand around to jiggle his shoulder.

House shrugs my hand off and says without breaking his gaze, "Quiet, woman. I'm focusing."

I groan in annoyance and smack him on the shoulder this time. I pull on his shoulder. I don't know where he's gotten the idea from, but ever since we've found out about the baby, he does this strange thing where he stares at my stomach from time to time. It's on the verge of freaking me out. I have a sneaking suspicion that an obscure medical journal—published in a language that I don't understand—printed an article about the relationship between healthy fetal development and whatever the heck House thinks he's doing right now.

He narrows his eyes at me and says, "You're mean." He kisses my stomach for a fraction of a second before shifting awkwardly and noisily back up the bed. He comes to rest on his side of the bed, but turns so that he's facing me. I turn my body so that we're facing each other.

House reaches out his left hand so that it rests against my waist. His hand is warm against my skin. He looks into my eyes with the kind of gaze that makes me inadvertently smile and let out a breath at the same time.

I tilt my head up a little so that my nose is up in the air and say accusingly, "You made me cold." I feel House laughing quietly, and he rubs his hand up and down my waist as his other hand brings my nightgown back down over my stomach. The position he's in is awkward, and after some struggling, he pulls be towards him so that I'm snuggled up against his chest. I feel him breathing in the scent of my shampoo, and I feel his lips press lightly against my neck through a tangle of curls.

"There. Are you warm now?" He says.

"Mmm….," I say, bringing my arms around him to squeeze him closer to me.

"This is nice," I say.

It's been a crazy two months. Us finding out about the baby, us arguing about me taking off time from work, Wilson taking House's side, my mom at first thrilled but then cautiously optimistic in her infuriating way . . . .

I think we've argued for a good half of the two months. It's only recently that things have settled down. I think my rising blood pressure was the thing that convinced House to just let it go and let me do my job as usual. He's still an ass, a jerk, and at times a bastard, but I know that he's a jackass to me only when he's scared about losing me or the baby, so my anger is more tempered than it has been in the past. And…deep inside, I know he has a point. I'm not exactly young anymore, and I know that this is a high risk pregnancy. I just … I need to keep working because … because I can't afford to lose my grip on the hospital if…if things…don't work out. Thank God everything looks fine for now, but House knows and I know that we need to be careful. About everything. Which is a bit of a challenge with us used to running hot and cold so much of the time. But right now, things are good.

After a few more seconds of us just lying still in each other's arms, I feel House start to nuzzle my neck and the area underneath my jaw. I close my eyes and tilt my head back a little.

"Cuddy?" he asks, nuzzling his nose against the area right below my earlobe.

"Hmm?" I say, my eyes still closed.

"Have your hormones kicked in yet?" He asks, lightly licking my pulse point.

To be honest, I don't know and I haven't given much thought to that topic because sex has always been a regular thing for us in our relationship. As I feel a shiver run down my spine so that my neck arches back in a motion that's very close to a yoga pose, I think and say out loud, "I don't know, Dr. House. Why don't you run some tests for me?"

I feel House grin against my skin in response, his beard prickly and tickling against my skin. His hand is under my nightgown again, and his touch is warm against my waist.


	29. Chapter 29

_Two months later_

_**Cuddy**_

"House," I say, exasperated. My arms are stretched out far above my head, and I'm sitting naked on the middle of the bed.

House is sitting right in front of me on the bed, and he brings his lips to my neck as he gently gropes my breast.

"Be quiet. Daddy's working," he says before bringing his lips back down to my neck again.

I roll my eyes in exasperation as he finishes groping my left breast and then moves on to the right. He brings his other arm around to hold my back up securely.

He's been doing this every couple of days, claiming that he has to monitor the progress of my breasts as the pregnancy goes on. I thought it was funny at first. And, most of the time, kind of hot because we would end up having sex after most of his "examinations." Today, though, I'm annoyed. It just feels…odd today.

"Can you hurry up? I have to go to the grocery store—pick up food, drinks…_stuff_—you know, things people do on weekends besides submitting to crazy examinations that don't make any sense?" I say as I summon my best sarcastic voice.

I feel his smirk prickling against my skin, and then, before I know it, he's kissing me as he runs a thumb gently over my nipple. He breaks away from the kiss and says, still caressing my breast, "I thought I told you to be quiet," in the voice he uses when he thinks he's being funny. And cute. Ah, hell. He's such a jackass. Typically House, always thinking of ways to maximize my increased hormones to his benefit. I feel my breath getting shallower in spite of myself, and I lean forward to kiss him, taste him, slip my tongue in his mouth as his hand on my breast creates a surging sensation through my veins.

When the kiss goes on for too long, House gently pushes me down on the bed and hovers over me. He nudges my arms upwards so that my arms are above my head, and he brings his hands down to gently cup both of my breasts. My neck arches backwards as he gently caresses my breasts and kisses me just the way he knows I like—a mix of short nips and long, drugging lip-locks. I feel myself getting wetter, and I start to move my pelvis against his subconsciously. I moan in his mouth when I feel him squeeze my left breast in his hand. Along with my arousal, though, is the resurfacing of an annoyance, a nagging voice that I didn't know existing, but one that I suddenly feel a strong urge not to ignore.

I break away from his lips, panting, and I say, "Hey. I don't think I like this game anymore. Why are you trying to control me?" I demand. I caress the hair at the base of his neck to signal to him that I'm not angry, just annoyed and in need of…what? I don't know what. Just to say that to him.

House studies my face for a moment—the thing he does where his blue eyes seem enormous, filling my field of vision as he searches for whatever he looks for in a quick, scattering assessment of all the grooves of my face.

He suddenly brings both his hands underneath me so that he's pulling me up slightly from the bed, with both his hands cupping both of my shoulder blades.

He kisses me once, and then pulls me upright along with his own body, and I end up straddling him on the bed. He kisses me again, and I gasp slightly at the feel of his erection nudging against my entrance. He's holding me right above him, his hands firmly on my hips.

He gives me one more kiss before he looks in my eyes and uses his grip on my hips to slowly sink me down on him. I gasp at the penetration, and I feel my muscles pulse as he pushes all of himself inside of me. When I've taken him all in, he leans close to my face and says in a low voice, "You can be in control now."


	30. Chapter 30

****_This was written in a rage of grief and...rage after stupidly making the decision to watch 8x17. And the promo for 8x18. Do I like pain? Aside from the ridiculous romantic plot, the stupidity that abounds on the show now breaks my heart..._

**House**

Where is she? Goddammit. I stare at the clock on the wall. 8:13. The sky is gray, and I can tell from the smell coming in from the open window that it's going to rain. I run through where she could be again. The grocery store, the hospital, her mom's house, Julia's…

I stare at the clock again. It's 8:15. Goddmammit! Where the fuck is she?

I jerk to my feet and start pacing on the rug in front of the couch. Stupid carpet. This thing is too damn squishy for my cane.

I twist my head back. 8:16.

That's it. I'm going to look for her.

I reach my right hand out to the side table to grab my keys. I immediately hear keys jingling in the front door, and the click of her heels sound muffled.

I feel heat rising up from my chest so quickly that I feel the hairs on my neck prickle. My feet propel me towards the hallway.

She's there. I see her white shirt, her jeans, her shoes, her grocery bag that's slung on one arm. She's checking her heel for dirt, looking down at her shoe.

My feet propel me closer to her until I'm standing directly in front of her, and I feel myself grab her arm. I want to tamp down this heat rising inside me, but I can't. I'm going to explode.

"Where the fuck have you been?" I hear myself say. I grip her arm tighter.

I see her startle, her brows going immediately into a frown, and she raises her arm to free herself from my grasp. I don't let go.

"House," she says, shaking her arm again. "Let go." I don't.

"Let go!" she says, getting really angry this time. She wriggles away from me. "Ow. What the hell!" she says, eyes blazing at me, holding her arm in front of her as if to show me what I just did.

I can't think right now. I'm just…I'm seeing red.

"Where the fuck have you been? Why did you leave your cell phone here?" I hear myself say.

She glares at me, then drops her grocery bag on the floor and crosses her arms above her chest. And I see her stomach protruding a little under her arms, framed by the white shirt.

"I went grocery shopping, genius," she says, narrowing her eyes. "What the hell is the matter with you? Why are you _so_ _angry_ that I forgot my phone? I'm kind of preoccupied with, oh, I don't know, carrying your child _and_ getting you food to eat. Cut me some slack if I forget something _one_ time!"

The slant of her face tells me she's serious, and that she's really upset. This one will be a one-weeker for sure.

I feel my eyes going towards her stomach again, and I involuntarily close my eyes and bite my lip. I try to take a breath and I say, this time with as much control I can muster, "I…I was _worried_ about you because I didn't know _where_ you were."

She's still staring at me suspiciously.

"I…uh…it's going to rain now, and I, uh, know how slippery the roads can get…" I trail off. I can't finish the sentence.

I look up into her eyes, and I see surprise there, and I see that she registers just how fast my heart is beating right now, and how shallow my breathing is. I see her observing me trying to consciously swallow my spit in an effort to stay calm.

She tilts her head in the way she does when she's about to do something, and then I feel her stretch out her arm to rest it coolly against my forearm.

She rubs gently and says, "I'm here. I'm safe now," she says simply.

I know this is ridiculous, but I'm still seeing red, and my stupid heart won't listen to me to slow down its crazy pounding.

"House," she says, and carefully, cautiously comes nearer until she raises her hands to my face. She hesitates, then cups my face in her hands.

"I'm fine," she says, looking into my eyes while tiptoeing so that she's almost at eye-level with me.

I feel myself looking wildly into her eyes for a second, and, before I know it, my arms are around her waist, and I'm holding her against me in a squeeze that I hope is not pressing against her bladder or the baby. My breath comes in short gusts, and I bring my hand up to cradle the back of her head. I press my lips into her hair, and I wonder when I've ever felt such a need to smell her shampoo, to taste the faint scent of lotion on her neck.

Cuddy wordlessly strokes my back until my grip loosens. She leads me back into the living room, and she pushes me down to sit on the sofa. She pokes and prods me until we're in the usual position we are in to watch a movie on TV. I feel her nestle her head against my chest, and my hands come to rest on the customary place on her hipbone. She says nothing for a long time, but then she adjusts her position so that she's burrowing fully into my chest. She kisses me right where my heart is, and she says in muffled syllables, "Hey," her hot breath seeping into my chest. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I feel myself give a slightly exasperated sigh, and I want to pull away from her because I'm not good with this sappiness. I start shifting.

Suddenly, though, she pins me to the sofa, and she adjust her body so that she's lying with her back nestled into my side. She brings my right hand up and places it gently over her stomach. I reflexively spread my fingers to feel the shape. "We're here," she says, placing her hand over mine. She grabs my left hand and kisses the palm before placing it over her hand. Now three of our hands are resting on her stomach. She brings her free hand back to touch my cheek. I know that she can't see my face, so I close my eyes and just feel the sensation of her hand against my skin. I breathe deeply, once.

I feel her pat my cheek. "Good boy," she murmurs. I start to protest, but she nudges me with her elbow and says, "Be quiet. Momma's tired. It's nap time."

She adjusts her body so that she's leaning comfortably against me, and I look at her for a long minute before I wrap my arm more securely around her and close my eyes, too.


	31. Chapter 31

****_Hello? For those of you who have stuck with this story, thank you so much for your patience. I've had ideas running around in my head for so long, but only now have had the opportunity to write one of them in this chapter. Among the millions of things life throws at us, recently, I've been very sick while being far away from home. I think I have at least a faint idea of what House felt when he felt like he absolutely needed the drugs to get through his pain. I didn't have an operation or anything as severe as that, but I was sick enough where there were many nights I felt like I would give anything to make the illness stop. I'm getting better now, but I have a newfound appreciation for being healthy. And, I know how much it sucks to be sick, in pain, and alone. That got me thinking about House, and I was determined to crank out at least one chapter for this fic. Hope you guys like it. I'll try to be better about updating :)_

**Cuddy**

_At PPTH_

I finish signing the papers and hand them off the Brenda at the clinic reception desk. I glance at my watch. I'm running ten minutes late. I quicken my steps, and my heels thankfully cooperate with me as I navigate through the maze of people to exam room #5 in the row of clinic rooms. I'm a bit winded as I reach the door. I take a deep breath to collect myself. I get tired more easily now, and, sometimes, my heels don't want to cooperate with me as much as they used to. I take another breath, and I twist the handle of the door open on the exhale.

I see him leaning against the far end of the counter in the exam room—his weight resting on his left leg, cane in hand. I can tell he's been tapping the handle of his cane against the bridge of his nose. His cane in mid-air, he turns his head towards me with a gleam in his eyes as he hears my entrance. He outstretches both his arms, the rest of his body immobile.

"Hiya, mama. Come to papa," he says, flexing his fingertips inwards.

I stifle a laugh and close the door. As I walk towards him, I reach for the pack of pills in the pocket of my lab coat. I punch a hole in the foil of the package with my fingernail so that I can take one pill out. By the time I have the pill in the palm of my hand, I've reached where House is leaning against the counter. He's moved his hands to rest against the counter now, and he has both feet on the floor. I move in between his legs and arms. I bring my face close to his.

"You're a sick, sick, man. You know that, Dr. House?" I say as I pop the pill in my mouth. His eyes flicker over my face, and then he smiles as he closes his eyes expectantly. I feel the sour tangy taste of the pill in my mouth as I tiptoe closer, and I wind one my hands around the base of his neck as I place my lips against his. I kiss him softly, and I gently push the pill into his mouth with my tongue. I break away from him as I gently bite his upper lip with my teeth.

I can see his face scrunch up with the sourness of the pill before he opens his eyes to look at me.

"I'm not sick," he says. "I'm just very, very creative," he quips as he raises his eyebrows in a faux-earnest expression.

I asked House a while ago to start taking vitamin C supplements on a daily basis because I was constantly worried about getting a cold. Getting a cold while pregnant is something that I don't even want to think about.

At first he refused to take the pills, but he of course came up with the brilliant plan that he would take the supplements only if I administered them to him. Orally.

So here we are, in one of our scheduled clinic "meetings." I can't believe I've agreed to along with this, but he knows that I know that kissing increasing endorphins, and increased endorphins helps with a healthy immune system. I already know that he's going to say his "method" is creative and brilliant because both the substance and the method of delivery have a synergistic effect.

My body is still a hair's length away from House's. I feel his body heat warm against my stomach.

Suddenly, House brings his arms around me to hold me against his chest. He kisses my ear.

I smile against his chest as I feel him kiss my temple, my forehead, my eye. We're in a really good place right now. House has started to get these uncharacteristic bursts of affection where he kisses me all over without the expectation of sex. I was, to be honest, a little bit weirded out at first, but, he's so sweet when he does this that I just stopped thinking about it. Deep down, though, I wonder whether he does this when he's worried about the baby or me. Like he has bursts of doubt where he feels like he has to do something, anything to hold on. I know he's still insecure.

He kisses my lips again and then buries his nose against my neck.

I bring my hand up to stroke the short hairs on the base of his neck. I feel so happy and safe in his arms that I don't want to move, but I know that I should get this over with sooner than later.

"House?" I say tentatively, stroking his neck.

"Hmm?" he says, his lips against my neck.

I break away from his embrace and look into his eyes, my hands resting on both his forearms.

"I have to go away on a business trip," I say firmly, directly. "For four weeks."

I can see his eyes register the surprise in his brain, and then I see the blue in his eyes grow dark.

He tilts his chin upwards and utters, "Says who?"

He crosses his arms against his chest.


	32. Chapter 32

**House**

She arches her brow. "Says who? Says me," she says as she places her left hand on her hip.

Cuddy is staring at me. I can see her steeling herself for what I'll say next.

I just look at her without saying anything because I can't believe she would be this stupid. We glare at each other for about ten seconds before I see the set of her jaw soften. She starts reaching out to grab my arm and says, "House, look-…"

"Don't be an idiot," I say, realizing that I've flinched away from her reach only after I've moved away from her.

I can see that she's hurt by my recoiling body language, and I feel a burning in my chest because I worry that I'm stressing her out. Still, this is more important. This is _the_ important thing.

I bring a hand up to indicate that I just want her to hold on. Just … just wait.

When my brain functions normally enough to form words, I try to will my expression to soften but I know that I'm still glaring at her.

"You _do_ know that you're almost five months pregnant, right?" I start.

She looks defiantly at me.

"You do _also_ know that you're in a high-risk pregnancy, right?"

I see her bite her lip but still look at me with her "steely" gaze. She says nothing.

I can already see the arguments that she's forming in her head. She's the head of the hospital, being pregnant does not equate being incapacitated, she needs to keep up with her job responsibilities . . . I can even anticipate that the business trip will be to an Asian country because there is a boom in high-end medical care for uber-rich expatriates over there right now.

I might or might not have hacked into her e-mail account and looked over some business proposals sent over from a Hong Kong-based company. I might or might not know that the business proposal is surprisingly good and will likely be mucho profitable. What I absolutely do know is that this is her one shot to have a biological kid, _my_ kid, and I will not let her put any more stress on herself or the baby. I didn't even want her to work full-time at the hospital. That was a battle that I lost, but this… this is not something that I can budge on.

Sighing, I exhale through my nose and try to take a different approach.

"You do also _additionally_ know that I am a crazy son of a bitch who will do anything to keep you from getting on a long international flight where you will have little to no access to medical care that you will need if you—oh, I don't know—happen to get sick on the plane or go into distress."

I see her swallow a lump in her throat, but she still says nothing.

"Also, additionally, and _finally_, I will body-block you from leaving the country or from getting near any airport in the country if I have to," I finish.

More silence, then nodding. Wait. What? Why is she nodding? She's tilting her head. Why is she tilting her head?

Her mouth finally opens.

"Oh, the queen finally graces us with a word," I grumble under my breath.

She glares daggers at me for a second, but then smirks in the way that does sometimes. She crosses her arms against her chest, lifts her chin, looks straight into my eyes.

"You're coming with me," she says.


End file.
